I ranon through the night, but I could not make any great progress. I was now involved in a maze of Essex bye-roads, totally unknown to me, and every few minutes I was compelled to dismount, and search for the tracks. I never lost them, however, until I came once more to a high-road. The curve of the tyre marks at the junction of the road gave me the direction I needed, and, letting my car go, in four or five minutes I found myself running into the electric-lighted streets of a town. The place was deserted, but eventually I found a policeman, and of him I inquired whether anything had been seen or heard of the Pirate. There was no need for me to describe the appearance of the pirate car. It was as well-known throughout the land, as the Lord Mayor's coach, but he had seen nothing of it, and was quite positive that it had not passed through the town. An ordinary car had passed about half an hour before my arrival, and though the constable's description of the car was not very lucid, it was sufficiently near the mark to make me think of Mannering.
"I fancy the man you describe is a friend of mine," I said. "Which direction did he take?"
"He went straight along the Colchester road," was the astonishing reply.
"The Colchester road?" I inquired. "What town is this, then?"
"This is Chelmsford, sir," he answered, with a surprise equalling my own.
I could see my unguarded question had awakened his suspicions of me, so I made haste to remark that I had not realized how quickly I had travelled, adding that I might have known there was no other town of the size thereabouts.
"I am afraid," I added, "that if you had met me outside the borough you would have had a case for the Bench in the morning."
"I don't take no heed of speed myself, sir, when the roads is clear," he remarked; "but when the traffic's thick, it's another matter."
I thought his sound common sense deserved a reward. Anyway it got one, and with a cheerful good night, I set my car going at a pace which made me hope that any other constable I chanced to meet would prove as intelligent as he from whom I had just parted. It is about twenty-two miles from Chelmsford to Colchester, and, in spite of the greasy state of parts of the road, I managed the distance in thirty minutes.
Every one of those minutes I expected to be ableto overtake Mannering; but I saw nothing of him, and by the time I came to Colchester, I began to fancy that he must have given me the slip at some bye-road. From my inquiries at Colchester, I learned, however, that I was still on the right scent; but I was mightily puzzled to discover that though he was driving the old car which he had always declared was unable to compass more than twelve or fourteen miles an hour, he was still half an hour ahead of me.
He was still going away from town, and I followed. There is no need for me to give in any detail particulars of my journey that night. Day was breaking when I came into Ipswich, and it was broad daylight when I passed through the long, untidy street of Wickham Market. Mannering still kept ahead, and I followed doggedly. I heard of him at Saxmundham, but when I inquired at Blythburgh, I found I had missed him, and I had to hark back to Yoxford before I got on his track again. He had taken the side route to Halesworth, through which he had passed in the direction of Beccles. By this time he was an hour ahead of me, and, as he had left Beccles by the Yarmouth road, I went ahead as fast as I dared. It was not quite my highest speed, for by this time I was both tired and hungry, and the strain of travelling over unknown roads at a high speed at night made my head swim. I knew that unless I could soon get food and rest I should soon be fit for nothing. So immediately I reached Yarmouth, I went to a hotel, ordered breakfast, indulged in a hot bath whileit was preparing, and went to sleep in my chair directly I had eaten the meal.
The waiter awakened me about ten. I went down to the beach and indulged in a swim, and, returning to the hotel, amazed the waiter by ordering and doing justice to a second breakfast before taking my departure.
On leaving the hotel, my first consideration was to get my tank refilled, and, that done, I sent off a couple of wires, one to Evie and the other addressed to Forrest, at my own place, telling each of them to communicate with me at Sutgrove Hall if anything happened, for it was my intention to call at my home if I could possibly manage to do so.
My next business was to search for traces of Mannering in Yarmouth, but it was some time before I ascertained that the man I imagined to be he, had left by the coast road through Caister. It was a tedious job to track him through the Norfolk lanes, for he had turned and doubled as if anxious to throw a pursuer off the scent, and it was one o'clock before I eventually struck the high-road between Norwich and Cromer. There I finally lost him, owing chiefly to the fact that the day was fine, and a large number of motor-cars were on the road in consequence.
By this time I was beginning to think my impulsive action to be more than a little foolish, but in order that my journey should not be altogether wasted, I determined to run on to Cromer, lunch there, and afterwards proceed to Sheringham, near which delightful village my homewas situated, and seize the opportunity to make arrangements with my aunt for Evie's visit.
In pursuance of this plan, in half an hour's time, I walked into the dining-room of the Royal Hotel at Cromer. You may judge of my surprise when I saw Mannering seated at a table at one of the windows. He observed my entrance, and, rising, greeted me heartily.
"Hullo, Sutgrove!" he said. "This is indeed a welcome surprise. I had not the slightest idea you were in this part of the country."
"If you had, I presume you would not have chosen it for the scene of your exploits," I replied.
The expression of astonishment which spread over his features at my rejoinder was so perfect that I felt all my suspicions begin to crumble away.
"I don't follow you," he remarked.
His manner was either the result of one of the best pieces of acting I had ever seen in my life, or due to absolute unconsciousness of my meaning. It made me remember that though there were undoubtedly suspicious circumstances connecting him with the Motor Pirate, yet so far there was not one iota of direct evidence. I thought it best to temporize.
"Oh," I remarked; "I was only referring to your attempts to cut the records with your old car."
He smiled calmly before replying. "You may be nearer the truth than you think. I've had a new motor fixed in the car—an idea of my own, and I find she travels at quite a decent pace. That's why I left homelast night. After the rain I thought the roads would certainly be clear enough to give me the opportunity of making a fair test. The engine is a model of the one I have designed for the new car which I mentioned—last night was it? No; the night before."
I was fairly staggered at his assurance. His demeanour was entirely without the suggestion of his being in any way aware that he was an object of suspicion.
"Were you not afraid of meeting the Pirate? I heard he was abroad last night," I said.
"Afraid!" he remarked witheringly. "Afraid! All I am afraid of is, that some of your Scotland Yard friends will be beforehand with me in his capture, and that is an adventure which has a particular appeal to me, since he left his mark upon me here." He tapped his shoulder significantly. "I have promised myself to repay this injury with interest."
"Well, I suppose we are as likely to meet him here as anywhere," I ventured to remark.
"I hope so," he answered. "But I am not stopping here for long. I've taken a bed for the night, because I feel confoundedly tired after last night's run. But what brings you down here? Are you motoring?"
"In the first place I wanted a word with you," I replied.
"With me?" The amazement in his voice was obvious.
"Yes," I said; "that is my principal object."
"But how did you discover my address? I left no word with any one."
"I'll tell you later," I said.
"Well, we have plenty of time to talk," he replied. "If there's any little difficulty in which I can be of any assistance, I need hardly assure you I am at your service. But hadn't you better have lunch first?" He lowered the tone of his voice. "Unless you wish the waiters to become acquainted with your affairs, I should think what you have to say could be much better said outside. Neither pier nor esplanade are much frequented at this time of the year."
The suggestion was so natural and reasonable that, after a moment's consideration, I decided to accept it.
All through the meal he chatted as easily as if there was not the slightest possibility of anything happening to interrupt the friendship which had always ostensibly existed between us. The longer we talked, the more puzzled I became. His manners were so natural, so fearless, that it was quite impossible for me to believe that I was sitting at lunch with the Motor Pirate. He was very curious to know how I had learned of his intention to come to Cromer, and I was induced to tell him of my experiences on the previous night. I watched his face keenly while I narrated the stories of the Pirate's victims. He listened quite gravely, not even the ghost of a smile crossing his face when I told him of the ludicrous pictures presented by the old lady and her two servants.
"It is no laughing matter," he observed. "The rascal was bad enough when he confined his attentions to men; but now he has taken to bestowing them upon women, he deserves no mercy, and when I am able to get upon his track, he will get none."
"Then you are really hoping to join in the hunt?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "I'll let you into my secret. At my place at St. Stephens, I had a car which only wanted one minor detail to make it complete. I have known for months, that if I could supply that detail, I should be in possession of a car which would outpace even the Pirate's. For months I've racked my brains over it. A week ago an idea occurred to me. I worked it out. I tried it for the first time last night. It has proved to be a success. The day after to-morrow I shall join in the pursuit of the Motor Pirate, so if your Scotland Yard friend does not make haste, he will be too late."
"What power do you propose to use?" I asked. "Petrol?"
He laughed before replying. "A month ago I would have told nobody; but to-day there is no need of secrecy; my drawings are all ready for deposit at the Patent Office, so there is no chance of any one forestalling me."
"Well, what is it?" I said.
"I don't want you to tell anybody else just yet," he said; and as I nodded my acquiescence, he continued, "My new motor is on an entirely novel principle. Itis a turbine engine, worked by the expansion of liquid hydrogen."
"What?" I gasped. The idea was so novel that I could not grasp it. He lifted his hand, checking the questions which started to my lips.
"No. No questions, if you please: because, if you ask any, I shall not answer them. Meanwhile, you have not yet told me how you learned of my presence here?"
I related how, in the course of my inquiries at Chelmsford, I had ascertained that a person so like himself had passed through the town, that I had determined to attempt to overtake him, little thinking the chase would prove so stern.
He chaffingly congratulated me on my tracking powers, and expressed regret that I had not made my appearance earlier, so that we might have arranged a race; and by the time we had finished lunch, I was as completely convinced as I had ever been of anything in my life, that he had no connection whatsoever with the Pirate. Still, I was none the less determined to tackle him upon the subject of the influence which Evie declared he exerted over her, so when the meal was over, we left the hotel together and, seeing from the front that the pier was practically deserted, I led the way to the far end, determined to have a complete explanation.
He was silent during our walk. So was I, for I was deliberating how best to introduce the subject. As it happened, he made the task easy for me, as after findinga comfortable seat and lighting a cigarette, he turned to me with—
"Now, old fellow, what is it you have on your mind? Out with it!"
I told him—told him fully and frankly everything that Evie had mentioned to me concerning him, and I finished by warning him that I was determined to exercise the right she had given me to protect her. He listened to me attentively and, one might have thought, even sympathetically. When I had concluded, he sat silent awhile; then, looking me full in the eyes, he remarked—
"I suppose, Sutgrove, if I tell you that this story of the influence I am supposed to exercise over Miss Maitland is absolute news to me, you will not believe me?"
I was staggered, and my astonishment must have been visible in my face, for he continued—
"You may be surprised, but not half so much as I have been, by what you have told me. Really, the whole story sounds the maddest farrago of nonsense I have ever heard."
I was about to make an angry retort, but he checked me with a gesture—
"I do not mean any offence," he said; "for I can quite understand what your feelings on the subject must be. I, no more than yourself, would tolerate any unwarrantable interference such as you describe. It is just as well that you should have mentioned the matter tome, however, for you will know so much better how to proceed."
"What do you mean?" I gasped.
"Why, what else than that you will not waste any time before obtaining medical advice for Miss Maitland," he replied.
I felt a grey horror creeping over me—a horror that tied my tongue, to think that Evie—my Evie—might prove to be—mad. Again, he must have divined my thoughts, for he said reassuringly—
"You must not take too serious a view of the case. Miss Maitland is of a highly nervous temperament, and, I should imagine, rather prone to hysteria." Then, rising, he clapped me on the shoulder, "Take a cheerful view, Sutgrove. I'll bet you ten to one that her doctor will inform you that marriage will provide a complete cure."
His tone was so hearty, so friendly, that I instinctively grasped his hand, and he returned my grip.
The subject was not resumed; and, as we walked back to the hotel, I was completely convinced that I had been an unutterable cad ever to allow a single doubt concerning him to enter my mind, much less to harbour there.
I left him at the hotel door and went in search of my car to continue my journey to Sutgrove Hall. He was still standing where I parted from him when I swept past, and he waved his hand to me, a smile upon his face.
I reachedmy destination about five, and found, as I hoped, a telegram awaiting my arrival. It read—
"Ever so much better. Do not worry about me. Cannot spare you for long though. Lots of love.—E."
"Ever so much better. Do not worry about me. Cannot spare you for long though. Lots of love.—E."
With my mind very much relieved, I was able to devote my attention to my aunt, who was full of questions as to the reason for my unexpected arrival and equally eager for a full account of my doings during the past six months, during which time, she assured me, I had grossly neglected my duties, especially by my failure to keep her adequately posted regarding my engagement.
I was anxious, after reading Evie's wire, to start forthwith for St. Albans; my aunt was equally anxious that I should remain the night at Sutgrove, and while we were arguing the point, a second telegram arrived, which settled the matter. I tore open the envelope and read—
"Meet the 8.49 at Cromer with motor. Do not fail. Most important.—Forrest."
"Meet the 8.49 at Cromer with motor. Do not fail. Most important.—Forrest."
The message had been handed in at Liverpool Street at 4.50, and I wondered what could have happened to necessitate Forrest's presence in Norfolk. There was little use speculating, however, and I settled down to satiate, if it were possible, my aunt's curiosity.
She was duly impressed by such of my adventures as I thought fit to relate, but she was not neglectful of what she considered her duties as hostess and, in spite of the fact that I had eaten a hearty lunch about two, I was able shortly after seven to do adequate justice to the early dinner which she provided for me. I left home soon after eight, and, in consequence of my impatience, had to wait ten minutes on the Cromer platform for the arrival of the train.
As the engine drew into the station, I saw Forrest's head thrust out of the window of one of the carriages, and, before the train had come to a standstill, he had leaped from the door and was at my side. He was for him unusually excited, and, without reply to my greeting, save with a silent hand grip, he said—
"Seen anything of Mannering?"
"Why, yes," I replied directly. "I lunched with him, to-day. He's stopping at the Royal."
"That's a bit of luck," replied the detective. "Come along;" and he pushed on in advance of me through the barrier.
"What has happened?" I asked, as I caught him up in the station yard.
"I hold a warrant for his arrest, and I am desirous ofexecuting it at the earliest possible moment, that's all," he replied.
I could hardly believe my ears. "What in the world for?" I asked.
"What should it be for?" said Forrest, with a touch of sarcasm in the tone of his voice.
"He cannot be the Motor Pirate. It is impossible. He could not have deceived me so completely," I exclaimed.
"I would stake everything I hope for in the future, as well as everything I possess at the present moment, that he is though," returned the detective with conviction. "But we must not waste time. Take me to the hotel."
Without stopping to argue the point, I jumped on my car, Forrest took the seat beside me, and we proceeded to the Royal.
"Leave the car and come with me, I may want your assistance," he said, as we pulled up at the entrance to the hotel.
He sprang out the moment I stopped and ran briskly up the steps. A porter was in the hall, and to him Forrest turned.
"I want to see a Mr. Mannering, who is stopping here, at once, and I do not wish to be announced," he said.
The man walked across to the office and made an inquiry of the clerk, then returning, announced that Mannering had left an hour previously.
"Left?" said Forrest, and his jaw fell. He stepped across to the office himself, only to learn that thoughMannering had booked a room for the night, he had after dinner called for his bill, paid it, and left on his motor, without giving any reason for his alteration of plans.
Forrest stalked out of the hotel, his brow heavy with thought. I followed him. He stepped on to the car, and, taking my seat, I asked him tersely—
"Where to?"
"St. Albans," he replied with brevity equal to my own, and without further question we were off.
"Don't mind taking a few risks," he said presently. "The sooner we can get there the better I shall be pleased."
Then, leaning back in his seat, he asked me to tell him how I happened to learn of Mannering's presence in Cromer, and what he had said to convince me that he was in no way connected with the Pirate. So while we were still running at a moderate pace, I gave him a brief history of my adventures of the previous night. Before I had concluded, however, the road ahead seemed clear, and, pulling my mask over my face, I jammed on my highest speed and conversation became impossible.
Forrest pulled his cap down over his eyes and, turning his coat-collar about his ears, settled himself apparently to slumber. Within half an hour the lights of Norwich sparkled in front of us, and it became necessary to slacken speed. Forrest immediately resumed the conversation at the point where we had broken off, and questioned me closely with regard to what Mannering had said to me.Once and again I endeavoured to ascertain what had induced him to take out the warrant; but he would not satisfy my curiosity, declaring that it was of more importance that he should know all that I could tell him first. There seemed little likelihood of my learning anything, for we soon left Norwich behind us, and were running at full speed on the road to Thetford and Newmarket, slackening speed only slightly as we swept through the villages and trusting to the continuous toot-toot of the horn to clear our path. Our progress was uninterrupted until we had reached and left the little town of Attleborough five or six miles behind us, when Forrest was afforded an opportunity, much to his chagrin, of giving me the reasons for his haste.
Incidentally, I may remark, that the occurrence which afforded this opportunity came very near depriving me of the chance of hearing anything from anybody, or him from ever opening his lips again, for while we swept along at our top speed there was a sudden hissing sound, a sudden succession of jars, and the car swerved violently, nearly overturning. I jammed on both my breaks, and by good fortune the car did not overturn. I guessed what had happened, and there was no need for me to get a light to make sure—my sense of touch informed me that the off back tyre was as flat as a pancake.
I hoped that the injury was only slight, but my hopes faded the moment I examined the injury. The tyre had picked up a curved and pointed piece of iron, and had been irreparably damaged. No patching was of any use.There was nothing for it but to replace the tyre with a new one. Fortunately, I was prepared with a spare outer cover as well as inner tubes, and, with a muttered curse, I threw off my coat and set about the job. Then when that was done, and it took me a good hour to complete the task, I discovered, on restarting the car, that a further misfortune had befallen us. Either owing to the jumping of the car when the tyre went, or more likely because of the sudden application, the footbreak had seized, and the transmission was so far injured that I could not get the car along above seven or eight miles an hour. I did my best to put the damage right. I lay on my back in the middle of the road, and used all the language approved by the most fluent members of the Automobile Club for use on such occasions, but entirely without result. Exactly where we were I did not know, and, after I had relieved my feelings, I thought it best to jog along until we came to some town where it would be possible to get skilled assistance.
And it was while we were progressing in this humdrum fashion that Forrest confided to me the reasons for his anxiety.
"In the first place," he said, "your theory as to the stud found by Mannering's servants proved to be correct. It was Winter's. I arrived at St. Albans the first thing this morning, and, after getting your note, went straight away and interviewed the girls. They handed me the trinket. I took it to Winter, and he identified it. He will swear to it anywhere. By the time I had done this,your wire for me had arrived, and your man, having seen me go into Winter's house, brought it on. I took the next train to town and went straight to the Yard, thankful that at last I was able to report something definite. Besides, I wanted to take a warrant without any one being aware of it, and I knew I could manage that better in London than in the country. Well, I called at the Yard, ran across to Bow Street and got my warrant, and returned to the Yard in order to instruct a couple of our men who had been placed at my disposal. While I was there particulars came to hand of a feat which throws all the other doings of the Pirate into the shade. You mentioned, I think, that Mannering, when he told Miss Maitland that he was going away, said that all England would be talking of him."
"She said so," I replied doubtfully; "but she was so excited——"
"She was probably correct in her recollection of what passed," he said. "If further proof were wanted to connect your friend with the Motor Pirate, those words would be sufficient. If what I know leaks out, the Pirate will fill the popular mind more to-morrow than he has done in the past even. Yesterday morning, within six miles of Sandringham, he held up"—he hesitated—"I must mention no names—he held up, let me say, an August Personage——"
"The King?" I cried.
"An August Personage," remarked Forrest, severely, "in broad daylight."
"Let me hear all about it?" I asked eagerly.
"I don't know that I can tell you everything, for so far I only know the particulars wired to the Yard. But the story is complete enough to enable me to do what I have hitherto failed in, and that is, complete the necessary identification of our friend Mannering. And curiously enough, it is owing to the keen powers of observation possessed by the——"
"The August Personage," I reminded him, a trifle maliciously as he hesitated.
Forrest laughed. "Quite right, you score that time," he remarked, before resuming his tale. "Owing to the August Personage's keen powers of observation, I am able to lay my finger on the one point which has puzzled me, namely, the manner by which Mannering has managed to escape suspicion. It is a simple trick. So simple, in fact, that I cannot conceive how I managed to overlook such a possibility for so long. However, you shall hear the facts as they were told to me, and judge for yourself with what transparent means we have been hoodwinked by the rascal. The August Personage, who, as you are probably aware, has been staying at Sandringham for some days past, has been in the habit of taking a ride on one of his cars whenever the roads were in good condition, accompanied only by his chauffeur. This morning he started for the customary run shortly after eleven, with the intention of taking a circular trip through Hunstanton, Burnham, Docking and Bircham, and returning for luncheon. The intention was not fulfilled since, beforereaching Hunstanton, the Pirate made his appearance, and approaching as usual from behind, overtook the August motor. The August driver did not at first take any notice of the approaching car, but, merely imagining that the driver had recognized him, and felt some delicacy at passing, he signalled with his hand for the stranger to go ahead. What was his surprise to hear the stranger in a loud voice bid him stop his car. He turned to look at the audacious person who had dared take such unwarrantable liberty, and at once observed with whom he had to deal. The Pirate had in his hand a revolver, which was levelled at the August head. The August face flushed with anger, and turning away, he contemptuously took no notice of the summons. The Pirate thereupon fired two shots, aimed, fortunately, neither at the August Personage nor at the chauffeur, but at the tyres of the back wheels. The aim was good, the tyres ran down at once, and the August Personage found progress on the rims to be so uncomfortable that he thought it desirable to stop. The stranger ranged alongside, and the chauffeur, rising from his seat, was about to throw himself at the throat of the assailant, when his August master laid a hand upon his arm.
"'No, no,' he said, 'I can easily get another car, but I do not know that I could replace my chauffeur.'
"Thereupon the Pirate observed, 'I think, sir, there is so much wisdom in your remark that, in spite of my necessities, I almost feel inclined to forego my usual toll in your case.
"The August Personage, whose coolness had never for a moment deserted him, replied imperturbably—
"'Having robbed me of a morning's enjoyment, it seems to me there is nothing of any particular value left for you to take.'
"'Then, sir,' replied the rascal, 'you will be doubtless glad to purchase my immediate disappearance with the contents of the August pockets?'
"August was not the word he used, but it was one which showed that he was acquainted with the personality of his victim.
"The August Personage shrugged his shoulders, and, searching his pockets, could produce nothing but a cigarette case and a button. To show hissang-froid, I need only remark that when he produced the latter article he laughed heartily and said to the chauffeur—
"'I hope, P——, you have something to add to the contents of my pockets, or I fear this too eager gentleman will destroy our front tyres as well as the back.'
"The chauffeur had some loose gold, a silver matchbox, and a watch, and when these were produced, speaking with the same nonchalance he had retained throughout, the August Personage remarked—
"'I fear you have drawn a blank this time, Mr. Pirate; for, upon my word, that is the best I can do for you.'
"The Pirate took the articles. Then he raised his hat. 'I take,' he said, 'the August word as readily as I take these souvenirs of this memorable meeting,' and with these words, he pulled a lever and was speedily out of sight."
"By Jove!" I muttered. "The fellow's audacity is almost past belief. But you said something of observations made by the August victim?"
"Yes," said Forrest. "The chauffeur was much too agitated to notice anything, but his master was not. He observed four things. First, that the Pirate was a man of about six feet in height."
"Mannering is five feet eleven and a quarter in his socks," I remarked.
"Secondly, that his hair was black. Thirdly, that the nails of the right hand, with which he took his plunder, were bitten to the quick."
"The identification becomes nearly perfect," I interrupted.
"Fourthly, that the car was originally a two-seated car, with a tonneau body, but that the seat had been set back, and the bonnet was enclosed by metal plates shaped into the form of the bow of a canoe, and bolted together in a manner which gave the impression that they might easily be removed. Why," continued the detective, "I did not think of so obvious a solution of the Pirate's mysterious disappearances before I cannot imagine. It is the trick the black flag merchants have practised since the days of Captain Kidd."
I was silent. I could only wonder at my own blindness. Then an excuse occurred to me.
"After all," I remarked, "we only met him in the dark."
Forresthad just concluded his story when the lights of Thetford gleamed in our eyes. The time was 12.30. The last train was gone. The inhabitants were all in bed, and there we were, stranded with a broken car, and no means of putting it right. Forrest would not despair, however, and after some difficulty we managed, with the assistance of the local police, to knock up a man who was locally reputed to know all about motors. He was a little surly at first, but the inducement I offered him to make an attempt to put the transmission right, was sufficient to dissipate his very natural disgust at being disturbed in his beauty sleep. Fortunately his local reputation had reasonable foundation. He was a very capable mechanician, and the way he set about the job gave me great hopes that the car would run as well as ever when he had done with it. And my expectations were gratified. In less than an hour he had completed the repairs. I paid him and asked him to remain up for ten minutes in case we had another breakdown, telling him that after that period had elapsed, he would be at liberty to return to hisbed. Whether he waited the ten minutes or not I do not know, for by that time we were halfway to Newmarket, flying through the darkness at a pace which two months previously I would not have dared venture upon in broad daylight. And right onward to St. Albans, we kept it up, reaching the ancient town just as the birds began to twitter in the hedges at the first grey light of early dawn. At St. Albans we stopped at the police-station. A man was waiting at the door.
"Any news?" asked Forrest.
The man shook his head.
"You know where to bring it?" asked my companion.
The man nodded.
"Let us get on home," said Forrest to me.
As I wheeled my vehicle into my yard I thought I should drop. The strain of that rush through the night, expecting every moment that something would give way, had been tremendous, and the moment the tension was relaxed I shook like an aspen leaf. When I tried to get in at my own door I found I could not fit the latch-key, and was obliged to hand it to the detective. He saw what was the matter with me, and the moment we were inside, he led the way to my study, thrust me down into a chair and mixed me a whisky-and-soda. I was never more grateful for a drink in my life. It pulled me together, and in less time than I had conceived possible, I felt as if I could have managed another seventy-five miles without a halt.
The moment he saw my nerves were steady again,Forrest proposed that we should get something to eat. I declared that I did not want anything.
"When you haven't time for sleep, the next best thing is to feed well if you want to keep fit," he remarked. "Besides, I am as hungry as a hunter has a right to be."
"That settles it," I laughed. "We shall have to forage for ourselves. The servants are all asleep."
We found our way to the larder and made a hearty meal on a cold pie we found there; and directly we had finished, we set out forthwith in the direction of Mannering's home. As soon as we arrived opposite the house, Forrest paused and gave a low whistle. It was answered immediately by a man dressed as a labourer, who made his appearance from behind the hedge opposite the house.
"Any one been here to-night, Laver?" asked Forrest.
"No one," the man answered. "The servants turned in about ten after locking up. No signs of any one about the place since."
"That's all right," grunted Forrest. "We shall be ready for him when he does come. Have you got the tools?"
The man was proceeding to scramble through the hedge when Forrest checked him.
"Better stay where you are," he advised. "Keep out of sight, and if I whistle, come at once."
"All right, sir," replied the man, as he handed through a gap in the hedge a small chamois leather bag.
I had no idea as to what steps Forrest proposed to adopt in order to effect the arrest, so I asked him, and he explained briefly his plan of campaign.
"One can see," he remarked, "that Mannering feels so confident of the completeness of his disguise that he will have no hesitation about returning. I am reckoning, too, upon there being an element of truth in the story he has told you about the construction of his motor, in which case his own workshop would be the only place where he would be able to refill his tank. We shall be able to decide that point in a very few minutes. If we do find any plant for the production of liquid gases, we can count upon catching our man within a very few hours."
"Unless he smells a rat, and makes for some convenient port and gets out of the country," I remarked.
"That eventuality is provided against," remarked the detective. "His description is in the hands of the police at every port in the kingdom, and even if he changes the colour of his hair, I don't think he will manage to get away. What I propose is, that we shall remain concealed in his coach-house and await his return."
"How are we going to get in?" I inquired.
Forrest took a bunch of skeleton keys from the bag Laver had handed to him and dangled them before his eyes.
"There's not a burglar in the kingdom is better provided," he remarked, and set to work upon the lock forthwith.
The lock was an ordinary one, and his efforts werespeedily successful. The door swung open, and we entered eagerly a bare, stone-paved coach-house. Opposite the door by which we had entered from the road was a similar door, which gave upon the inner yard. On the left, a large sliding door had been fixed in place of the wall which had divided the coach-house from the stables. Relocking the door by which we had entered, Forrest led the way to the door on the left. It was unfastened, and as it swung back a cry of amazement sprang to my lips.
"Hush—sh—sh!" said the detective warningly.
But I could not have repressed the cry, for there before me stood a replica of the car I had seen on two occasions. There was only one point of difference at first apparent. The pirate car had been black. This one was built of aluminium and gleamed silvery white. But although the lines were very similar, I soon came to the conclusion that the car we saw before us was not the one which the Pirate had used when engaged upon his nefarious work. One glance at the tyres convinced me that they had never been upon the road, and I fancied that the wheels were smaller and the lines of the body finer altogether. I pointed these things out to Forrest, who, while agreeing that this particular car could not have been the one which had been responsible for holding up the "August Personage" on the previous day, would not commit himself further.
We did not spend much time upon a close examination of the car, for the other contents of the building claimed our attention. We found ourselves in a longworkshop. There were no windows in the walls, but the place was amply illuminated by a skylight which ran along nearly the whole length of the northern slope of the roof. On the right of the large door by which we had entered the inner shop was a small room, which had probably once served as a harness-room, for through this another door gave on to the yard, though this exit was evidently never used, for the door was fixed by screws. The contents were a couple of broken chairs, and some coats and rugs hung upon hooks upon the walls, together with a miscellaneous assortment of odds and ends upon a shelf. I gave merely a cursory glance at the contents of this apartment, for my attention had been attracted by a plant of machinery, which occupied the far end of the large room. As it happened, I had once had an opportunity of inspecting the laboratory of the Royal Institution, and I recognized at once that Mannering had set up an installation for the preparation of some one or other of the liquid gases. Without this experience, I doubt whether it would have been possible for me to guess even the purpose for which the plant had been devised. As it was, I had no hesitation in discovering the receiver into which the liquid gas was distilled; and when I let a little of the liquid with which it was filled run into a glass which I found handy, and saw the air fall in a shower of tiny snow-flakes as the stuff evaporated, I knew that Mannering had told me the exact truth when he had informed me that liquid hydrogen supplied the power for his new car.
Once satisfied on this point, I examined the other contents of the place. I do not think there is any need to particularize all that we discovered, even if my memory served me. Practically the workshop contained a sufficient engineering equipment to build such a car as stood in the centre, though I judged that there was no convenience for the forging of the parts of the motor.
Still, as I pointed out to Forrest, there was nothing in all these discoveries to negative the truth of the story Mannering had told me about his being engaged in building a car which should serve to outpace the Pirate car, but he would not listen to any theorising on the subject.
"He can tell that story to the jury," he said, as he significantly drew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and clinked them together. Then he proceeded to investigate the contents of the harness-room, while I went back to the new car and began a careful examination of the engines. The whole mechanism was, however, so novel to me, that I could only surmise as to the method of its working. I did notice, however, that the driving and steering gear varied very little from that of my own car, so far as it was controlled by the levers and wheel, while the breaks seemed to be particularly powerful. There was only seating accommodation for two, and judging from the size of the tank which was fitted behind the seat, I judged that Mannering contemplated runs over distances which would make large demands upon his supply of liquid gas.
At the moment I made this discovery, I heard Forrestcall to me in an excited whisper, and going across to him, I found him contemplating with keen interest a dirty piece of rope.
"Look here, Sutgrove," he said; "this is the piece of cord with which he trussed me up on the occasion when he dropped me into the pond. Compare it with this"—he kicked a coil which lay at his feet—"and tell me if they are not identical."
I examined them both, and came to the conclusion that Forrest was correct in his supposition. Next, mounting one of the chairs, he proceeded to rummage amongst the rubbish piled on the shelf. A moment later he observed triumphantly, albeit in subdued tones, "Another piece of evidence," and descending from his perch, he handed me a box of cartridges. A glance at the label had apparently been enough, nevertheless, to make sure, he searched again in his pocket, and produced the bullet which had proved fatal to the poor victim at Towcester. He compared it with one of the cartridges, and gave a grunt of content. "I fancy we shall soon obtain sufficient evidence to hang him," he murmured. Then a shadow crossed his face. "What an infernal dunderhead I have been not to suspect him before," he said, and turning impatiently away, he replaced the box of cartridges on the shelf, before renewing his systematic examination of the rest of the contents of the room. The search revealed nothing further, and at length he desisted.
All the while we were keenly on the alert to detect any sound which should tell us of the approach ofMannering's car. But the minutes passed and grew into hours without a sign. It must have been about five in the morning when we had entered the coach-house, and when I saw by my watch that it was nearly ten, I began to think that in some way or another Mannering had got warning of the danger that threatened him. I suggested to Forrest that we might as well leave our hiding-place, but he would not hear of it.
"I don't leave this building except in his company, unless I hear that he has been captured elsewhere," he declared obstinately. "At the same time, don't let me detain you."
I wanted badly to see Evie, whom I thought might be getting anxious concerning me; but I hardly liked the idea of leaving Forrest to tackle Mannering alone if he should return. However, my first desire triumphed, so I persuaded Forrest to let me out of the door, promising to return within as short a time as I could manage.
I hurried first to the Colonel's house, and had a brief interview with the dear girl, telling her what had happened and what was likely to happen in the near future. Next, I went to my own place, and had a basket packed with a plentiful luncheon, not forgetting to provide a couple of bottles of champagne, and thus provided I returned to the coach-house after an absence of less than an hour.
When in response to my signal Forrest admitted me, his eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he saw my burden.
"It is truly thoughtful of you," he remarked, as Ilifted the lid of the basket and revealed the contents. "I only hope our friend will not spoil our picnic by arriving in the middle of it."
The better to avoid any suchcontretemps, we set about our meal immediately with very good appetites. When we had finished, I do not know how Forrest felt, but I was confoundedly drowsy. I tried all sorts of tricks to keep my eyes open, but the quiet of the place, the coolness, and the subdued light of the saddle-room, where Forrest thought it best for us to remain, were too much for my powers of resistance and I dropped off to sleep.
I must have slumbered for a couple of hours, if not three, when I was suddenly awakened by a hand placed on my mouth, while a voice whispered in my ear—
"Wake up, man—wake up! There's no time to lose."
I came to myself with a start. Forrest had hold of me, and was shaking me violently. At the same moment I became aware of the throb of an approaching motor.
Recognizing the sound, I turned to the detective.
"That's Mannering," I whispered.
"Yes," replied my companion. "I could swear to the sound anywhere."