When Dan left Mrs. Jarsell he was very well pleased with the promise she had given concerning the safety of Lillian. He fully believed that she, in her role of Queen Beelzebub, would keep that promise faithfully, if only because her own interests demanded such honesty. The fact that the confession of Penn was in the hands of a third party, to be made use of should anything happen to Miss Moon, prevented the Society of Flies from carrying out the threat made to him at the secret meeting. To save their own lives, the members would be forced--much against their will no doubt--to spare those of Lillian and himself. Dan chuckled at the way in which he had circumvented the deadly organization. But he had only scotched the snake; he had not killed it, and, until he did so, there was always that chance that it would strike when able to do so with safety. But, while Penn's confession remained in Laurance's hands, all was well. One thing struck Halliday as strange, and that was the persistence with which Mrs. Jarsell kept up the comedy of having-nothing-to-do-with-the-matter during so confidential a conversation. She knew that Penn had been a doubtful member of her gang; she knew that he had been despatched--as Dan truly believed--because he was not to be trusted, and now she knew that he had left a confession behind him, which was in the hands of her enemies. Also, she was aware that the man who spoke to her had read the confession and must have guessed that her name, as Queen Beelzebub, was mentioned therein. This being the case, it is to be presumed that she would speak freely, but, in place of doing so, she had pretended ignorance, and for his own ends he had humored her feigning. Either she doubted that such a confession existed, or she guessed in whose possession it was, and intended to regain it. "Queen Beelzebub knows well enough that Freddy is my best friend," thought Dan, as he returned to the Peacock Hotel, "and it would be reasonable for her to believe that he had Penn's confession, which is certainly the case. I should not be at all surprised if Freddy was inveigled into a trap as I was, so that he might be forced to surrender the document or rather what remains of it. If that were managed, Queen Beelzebub would revenge herself on Lillian and on me, since there would be nothing left to shield us from her spite. And, in any case, Freddy is in danger, as I am certain she guesses that he holds the confession," he mused for a few moments, and then added, aloud, "I shall return to town at once and see him." The more he thought the more he saw the necessity of doing this. Mrs. Jarsell's first move to counterplot him would be to seek out Lord Curberry and learn what she could, relative to what Penn had left behind him. Certainly Curberry would assure her that he had burnt the confession, in which case Queen Beelzebub would think that she would be free to act. But Halliday believed she was of too suspicious a nature to be quite convinced that he had only bluffed. Before taking any steps, she would decidedly ascertain for certain--although in what way it was difficult to say--if there really was any compromising document in Laurance's hands. To do so, she would, as Dan had thought a few minutes before, set a trap for him, and browbeat him into stating what he knew and what he held. Therefore, for Freddy's sake, it was necessary to go to London, and report in detail the conversation on the moor. Then the two could arrange what was best to be done. They were dealing with a coterie of daring scoundrels, who would stop at nothing to secure their own safety, and it behoved them to move warily. "We are walking on a volcano," was Halliday's concluding reflection. Of course, as it was useless to alarm the ladies, Dan said nothing of his meeting with Queen Beelzebub on the moor. However, on being questioned, he confessed the sudden thought which had sent him out of doors, and both Lillian and Mrs. Bolstreath agreed that it was entirely probable that Mrs. Jarsell did travel in up-to-date aeroplanes, like a mischief-making fairy. Then, in turn, they told him that Mildred had stayed for quite a long time and was altogether more charming each time she appeared. She suggested many trips and Mrs. Bolstreath was inclined to stay at Sheepeak longer than she intended, in spite of the near menace of Queen Beelzebub. Lillian was delighted with the lovely scenery, so gracious after the drab hues of London. "I don't see why we shouldn't get a house here after we are married," she said to her lover, "one of those delicious old manor houses of faded yellow stone. I could live quietly with Mrs. Bolstreath, while you ran up to business on your aeroplane."
"And all the time you would be fretting lest any harm came to him," said the chaperon, shaking her head, "besides, my dear, when you are married, you won't want me to be with you."
"Dear Bolly, I shall always want you, and so will Dan."
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Bolstreath, briskly, "two's company and three's none."
"Well," remarked Halliday, leisurely, "we can settle the matter when we are married, Lillian. Remember, before your uncle will consent, I shall have to discover who murdered your father."
"You have discovered who murdered him. It was the false Mrs. Brown, who is Mrs. Jarsell, who is Queen Beelzebub."
"So I believe, but I have to prove my case," said Dan, dryly, "and, moreover, I won't find it easy to place the woman in the dock when she has this accursed society at the back of her."
"You don't think there is danger?" asked Lillian, hastily. "No, no, no! Things are safer than ever, my dear. I go to town this evening, and can leave you here with the certainty that all is well."
"You go to town this evening?" said Mrs. Bolstreath, anxiously, "isn't that a very sudden resolution?"
"Oh, I think not," answered Dan, in an easy way. "I came down here only to settle you and Lillian. By the way, Sir John----"
"I wired our address, and he wrote me," interrupted Mrs. Bolstreath, "he is quite pleased that we are away. I rather think," the lady added, thoughtfully, "that Sir John is not ill-pleased we are away. At his age the constant presence of two women in his house is rather disconcerting. Finding we had left town he returned there to enjoy his own house to himself."
"In that case," said Dan, cheerfully, "he will be glad to see Lillian married."
"But to Lord Curberry, not to you."
"I would die rather than marry Lord Curberry," said Lillian, decisively, and with her chin in the air. "You won't be asked to do either one or the other, my dear," replied Dan, in his calmest tone. "We shall marry, right enough, whatever opposition Sir John may make. As to Lord Curberry," he hesitated. "Well?" asked Mrs. Bolstreath, impatiently. "I intend to see him when I return to town."
"I think it will be as well. Better have a complete understanding with him so that he will not worry Lillian any more."
"He won't," answered Dan, grimly, "and now I shall have to get away. I see Mrs. Pelgrin has had the trap brought round. Take care of Lillian." Lillian kissed her lover and followed him to the door of the sitting-room with a gay laugh. "Lillian can look after herself," she said lightly, "I am not afraid of Mrs. Jarsell or of anyone else. But you take care, Dan. I fear much more for you than for myself."
"I'm all right!" Dan, with an Englishman's dislike for an emotional scene, kissed the girl again and slipped out of the door. They saw him drive away in the gloom of the evening, and then settled to make themselves comfortable. Neither Lillian nor Mrs. Bolstreath would admit as much, but both felt rather downcast at Dan's sudden departure. Luckily, as he had been so cool and composed, they did not connect it with any fresh development likely to give trouble. In some vague way Mrs. Bolstreath guessed that Dan had spiked the guns of the enemy under which they were encamped, and, her certainty of safety, being infectious, Lillian also felt quite at her ease. Meanwhile, Dan reached the Beswick station in the ramshackle trap and was lucky enough to catch the in-going train to Thawley, just as it started to glide past the platform. The fortunate connection enabled him to board the seven-twenty express to London, where he hoped to arrive shortly before eleven that same evening. Knowing that Laurance's work kept him up late at night, he wired from Thawley, asking him to come to St. Pancras Station. Important as was Freddy's time, Dan knew that he would respond to the call at once, knowing that large issues would be the outcome of the present situation. Therefore, as the train dropped south, Halliday felt quite comfortable, as he had done all he could to arrange matters for the moment. Indeed, so assured did he feel that he had taken all possible precautions, that he did not even trouble to think over the matter, but fell asleep and refreshed his weary brain and body. Only when the train arrived at St. Pancras did he tumble out, sleepy still, to catch a sight of his faithful friend on the platform. "Nothing wrong?" asked Laurance, hurrying up. "Nothing wrong," responded Dan, with a yawn, "but I have much to talk to you about. Get a four-wheeler."
"A taxi you mean."
"I don't mean. I wish to travel as slowly as possible, so as to explain matters. Tell the man to drive toThe Momentoffice. There I can drop you and go on to my rooms." Thus understanding the situation, Freddy selected a shaky old cab, drawn by a shaky old horse, and the rate at which it progressed through the brilliantly lighted streets was so slow that they were a very long time arriving atThe Momentoffice in Fleet Street. In the damp-smelling interior of this antique conveyance, Halliday, now quite alert and clearheaded, gave his friend a full account of all that had happened, particularly emphasizing the interview with Mrs. Jarsell. "H'm," commenced Freddy, when he ended, "so she didn't give herself away?"
"No; and very wisely, too, I think. She didn't know how much I knew, and wasn't keen on giving me rope to hang her."
"But she knows you have read Penn's confession--what there is of it."
"I didn't tell her that I had anything else than the full confession, old son. She may think I have the whole document intact, or--and this I fancy is probable--she may believe that there isn't any confession in existence."
"Curberry may have written to her, telling her that he burnt the confession."
"No," said Dan, after a pause, "I really don't think he has done that. Mrs. Jarsell went dead white when I mentioned a confession."
"Then she believes that you spoke the truth," persisted Laurance, hopefully. "She may, or she may not, as I said before," retorted Halliday, "anyhow, as she can't be sure if I'm in jest or earnest, she will delay proceedings until she sees Curberry. If he swears that he burnt the confession, Mrs. Jarsell may act; therefore I want you to send him an unsigned telegram, containing these three words, 'All is discovered!'"
"What will that do?"
"Put the fear of God into Curberry, into Queen Beelzebub, and into the Society of Flies as a whole. The warning will be so vague that they won't know who will strike the blow."
"They will suspect you, Dan."
"In that case," replied Halliday, promptly, "Queen Beelzebub will leave Lillian alone, and my object will be obtained. I want to gain time, and can only do so with safety to Lillian by keeping these beasts in a state of uncertainty as to how much or how little is known."
"I see," Laurance thought the plan a good one, "since you say that you have the confession and Curberry will say that he destroyed it, Queen Beelzebub will be undecided. This telegram, like a bolt from the blue, will clinch matters and make her and her gang pause before they take steps to hurt you or Miss Moon. I'll send the wire. What then?"
"Then--to-morrow that is--I go down to see Curberry, and have it out with him. His name is mentioned in the portion of the confession which you hold and we know enough to ensure his arrest."
"That is doubtful," protested Freddy, thoughtfully, "I have read the confession. Penn hints a lot about Curberry, but doesn't say enough to----" "Never mind, he says enough for my purpose, which is to scare Curberry; belonging to the Society of Flies, as he does. I believe he got his uncle and cousin put out of the way to inherit the title and property. I'll harp on that string. If Queen Beelzebub calls----"
"There's the danger, Dan," interposed Freddy, quickly and anxiously. "I know. I am far from suggesting that there is not danger, as we are driving these people into a corner. If I don't turn up at your office by five o'clock to-morrow, Freddy, or if I don't send a wire saying that I am safe, you get Inspector Tenson, tell him all, show him the confession, and come down with him to Blackheath to see the Inspector who had charge of the Durwin murder. Then, armed with the authority of the law, you can go to Curberry's house. If I am missing, you will know how to act." Laurance drew a deep breath as the cab turned into Fleet Street. "It's a big risk for you, Dan." "Pooh. As an aviator I am always taking risks. I must settle this business somehow, if I wish to marry Lillian and save her life as well as my own from these infernal beasts. Here you get down, Freddy. Don't forget to do as I tell you," and Laurance promised to faithfully adhere to his instructions, while the four-wheeler lumbered away in the direction of the Strand. Halliday possessed one of those rare natures which invariably reveal their best in time of danger. He knew what to say and how to act when in a tight corner, and his training as an aviator had learned him to take risks from which less level-headed men would have shrunk. At the present moment he required all his energies to cope with unforeseen emergencies, since he did not quite know what action would be taken against him. Of course, he was confident that some sort of action would be taken, since he had aroused the wrath of a brilliantly clever and intensely evil set of people. Fearful for their own safety, the Society of Flies would do its best to get rid of him and to get rid of Lillian, as they had gotten rid of others who had stood in their crooked path. Both he and the girl were safeguarded so far by the confession, but it all depended upon what Curberry said to Queen Beelzebub as to how long such a safeguard would be efficacious. He had told the woman one story, but Curberry would tell her another, so it was doubtful which she would believe. The telegram from an unknown source might turn the balance in his favor, and lead both Mrs. Jarsell and her friend to believe that there was a chance of their devilish doings coming to light. Having arrived at this conclusion, Dan fell asleep, quite indifferent to the fact that the sword of Damocles hung over his head, and that the single hair might part at any moment. Herein he showed the steadiness of his nerves, and the value of a nature trained to face the worst smilingly. Next morning Halliday arose brisk and cheerful with the expectation of having a most exciting day, and as soon as he finished his breakfast made his way, by train, to Blackheath. On arriving there, somewhere about twelve o'clock, he did not go immediately to Curberry's house, but walked to the place where the Vincent aeroplane was housed. It had just struck him that Mrs. Jarsell might have wired to one of her friends to damage the machine, so that it could not be used. She had procured it for him and he--to put it plainly--had abused her friendship, so it was not likely she would permit him to retain, unharmed, a wonderful airship, with which he could make money and win fame. But, when he reached the shed and saw the man whom he had engaged to watch the machine, he found that his fears were groundless. No one had been near the place, and, so far as he could ascertain, the aeroplane was in perfect condition. Then it struck Dan, as it was yet too early to call on Lord Curberry, that he might indulge in a little fly. His enemy's house was only a stone's throw distant, on the borders of the open space, and Halliday did not intend to lose sight of the entrance gate, lest Mrs. Jarsell should steal in unobserved. In the air, and hovering directly over the grounds, he could see all who came and went. Also, incidentally, he might gain information as to what was going on in the gardens. Somewhat oddly, it occurred to him that if Queen Beelzebub came, she might push Curberry into the ornamental pond, as Marcus Penn had been pushed. There was no knowing what she might do in her despair. In brutal English, Queen Beelzebub was at bay, and could fight, like the rat she was, in the corner into which she was being slowly driven by circumstances, engineered by Mr. Daniel Halliday. Therefore, Dan saw to the fittings of the biplane, and ascertained by sight and touch that they had not been tampered with. He oiled the engine, saw that it did not lack petroleum, and, in fact, was as careful of all and everything connected with the structure as though he was preparing for a long race. Of course there was the usual crowd of loafers who came to see him start, and he swept upward from the ground in a graceful curve. The aeroplane acted easily and truthfully, according to its very excellent design, and the aviator, after making a wide circle, dropped down, to pass slowly over the grounds of Curberry's mansion. He could see no one about, even though the day was fine and sunny, so concluded that the owner, having received the anonymous telegram, was shivering within doors, terrified to venture out. In his impatience to learn the absolute truth, Dan turned his machine back to the shed, and came to rest almost at the very door. Owing to the examination of the aeroplane, and the experimental flight to test its working order, time had passed uncommonly swiftly, and it was now fifteen minutes past one o'clock. Dan made up his mind to beard Curberry in his library, without waiting for the arrival of Queen Beelzebub, who, after all, might not arrive. His man and some willing onlookers wheeled the machine into the great shed, and the doors were about to be closed when one of the crowd uttered an exclamation, which was echoed by many others. Halliday, always on the alert for the unexpected, came quickly to the door of the building, and saw everyone looking upward and northward, to where a small black dot spotted the blue of the sky. It increased in size rapidly, and there was no difficulty in seeing that it was a flying-machine. At once a thought entered Dan's mind that there was Mrs. Jarsell on a Vincent biplane, paying her expected visit, although he had no reason to suppose that she was the pilot. Wondering if he was right or wrong in his surmise, he waited with a fast-beating heart, and became certain of the truth of his guess very shortly. Travelling at a great height, the strange biplane poised itself directly over the open space, and then began to drop slowly into the enclosed grounds of Lord Curberry's mansion. Not having field-glasses, Halliday could not make out if the pilot was a man or a woman, but, when the machine, cleverly managed, disappeared below the trees and walls of the park, he was convinced that Queen Beelzebub had arrived. At once he determined to make a third at her interview with Curberry, whatever objections might be raised. But first he arranged what to do in order to guard against future events of a dangerous nature. "Wheel my machine out again," he ordered the man and those who had assisted, "see that everything is in order, and have everything prepared to start. Do not let anyone touch this," and he tapped the aeroplane, "you understand?"
"Yes, sir," said the man stolidly, "you're going for another fly?" "Exactly. The person who arrived is a friend of mine. I am going into yonder house to ask if a race can be arranged." Knowing that he could trust his man to guard the machine, and certain it would not be tampered with when hundreds of eyes were watching it, Halliday walked across the open space with serene confidence. It struck him that if Mrs. Jarsell wished to escape, she would certainly use her biplane, and it was just as well to follow in his own and run her to earth. As both machines were made by Vincent, the speed of each would be about equal, and, in any case, Dan hoped to keep Queen Beelzebub in sight, if it was necessary to give chase. Having thus prepared for possible emergencies, the young man entered the big gates of the park and hastened up the short avenue. Soon he found himself at the front door, and, as he rang the bell, glanced around for Mrs. Jarsell's flying-machine. It was not visible, so he presumed she had left it on the broad and spacious lawn on the further side of the house. It was in his mind to go and tamper with the engine to prevent her further flight, but, before he could make up his mind to this course, the door opened and the footman appeared. "I wish to see Lord Curberry," said Halliday, giving the man his card, "on most important business. Can he see me?"
"I'll inquire, sir. He is with a lady just now, and has been for the last ten minutes. Please wait here, sir," and he introduced Dan into the hall. Again, when left alone, Halliday had the impulse to go out and look to the gear of the machine, with the idea of putting things wrong, and again the footman appeared before he could decide if it would be wise to do so. "His lordship will see you, sir," said the man, who looked rather uncomfortable, "but he seems to be ill."
"Ill," echoed Dan, wondering what new deviltry was taking place, "and the lady?"
"She is not with his lordship now, sir," said the footman, in a bewildered manner, "yet I showed her into the library a few minutes ago."
"Do you know the lady?" asked Halliday, sharply. "No, sir. At least, I can't tell, sir. She came in one of them flying-machines, and wears a thick veil. She's a stout lady, sir, with a sharp manner."
"Take me to your master," commanded Dan, not caring to ask further questions, since it was best to ask them of Lord Curberry himself, and the man obeyed, still bewildered and nervous in his manner. The entrance of Queen Beelzebub into the house had evidently upset things. Ushered into the library, Dan waited for the closing of the door, and then advanced to where Curberry was seated at his desk, near the window. The man looked gaunt and haggard, and very sick. When the young man advanced, he rose as if moved by springs, and held out a telegram in a trembling hand. "You--you--sent this," quavered Curberry, and Halliday could see that the perspiration beaded his bald high forehead. In a flash Halliday guessed that this was the wire which Laurance had dispatched according to arrangement. "No, I did not send you any telegram," he denied, calmly, and with perfect truth. "You sent this, saying that all is discovered," stuttered Curberry again, and dropped back into his seat, "you have learned too much. She says that you know everything."
"Queen Beelzebub?"
"Ah, you know the name. I guessed as much. She is here; she is furious!"
"Who is Queen Beelzebub?" demanded Dan, anxiously. "You know. Why do you ask questions you know the answer to? I know why you have come; to have me arrested. I thought I destroyed the confession of that infernal Penn. But she says----"
"I retained sufficient to show me----"
"Yes, yes! You know all. You have won. I fought you for Lillian, and there is no chance of my gaining her for my wife. You won't either. You have to reckon with Queen Beelzebub. As for me--as for me----" he faltered, and trembled. Dan stepped right up to the desk. "What's the matter?"
"I--I--I have taken poison," gasped Curberry, and dropped his head on his hands with a sob.
"Poison!" echoed Dan, startled out of his composure, for he was far from expecting such a word, "the doctor----"
"No doctor can do me any good," sobbed Curberry, lifting his haggard face, and looking up with wild, despairing eyes, "there is no antidote to this drug I have taken. It is painless, more or less, and in an hour I shall be dead, as it works but slowly. Time enough for me to speak."
"Let me get a doctor," insisted Halliday, for so distraught did the man look that he was not surprised that the servant had been uncomfortable, "you must not die without----" Curberry struggled to his feet, and laid hands on his visitor. "No, no! I am ready to die," he said in a harsh, strained voice, "why should I be kept alive to be hanged--to be disgraced--to be----"
"Then you admit----"
"I admit everything in this--this," he touched a few loose sheets of paper lying on the desk, "this confession. Like Penn, I have made one."
"You must have a doctor," said Halliday, and ran to the bell. Curberry, with a wonderful strength, seeing how ill he looked, rose swiftly, and sprang after him. "If you call a doctor I shall shoot myself," he said, hoarsely, and pulled out a small revolver. "I would rather die by means of the poison I have taken, since it is more painless. But, sooner than be taken by the police, I shall shoot myself--and you, too--and you, too." Halliday waived aside this threat. "You won't see the police----"
"The doctor would try to save me," insisted Curberry, fiercely, "and I will not be saved only to be hanged. Stay here and listen to me. I have something to say. Touch the button of the bell and I shoot!" As he spoke he levelled the revolver. "Quick, quick, what will you do?"
"Have your own way," agreed Halliday, and moved to the desk, where he sat down on a convenient chair. Curberry, with a groan, returned to his seat, and laid the revolver on the blotting paper, ready for instant use should necessity arise. Even as yet he did not wholly trust Halliday. And there was cause for his suspicion. Since Dan was unarmed, he could do nothing against a man with a quick-firing weapon, but he made up his mind to snatch at the revolver the moment Curberry was off his guard. Yet, even as he decided upon this course, he said to himself that it was foolish. The man's recovery, supposing a doctor did arrive, meant the man's arrest, and, in Dan's opinion, as in Curberry's, death was better than disgrace. It was a most uncomfortable situation, but Halliday did not see anything to do but to listen to what his host had to say. The poor wretch had poisoned himself, and was keeping all help at bay with his revolver. He would be dead in an hour, or half an hour, as he hinted, so the best thing was to hear his story in the hope that by its means those who had brought him to this pass could be punished. But it was a weird experience to sit beside a tormented man, who declined to be saved from a tragic death. "Did Queen Beelzebub give you the poison?" asked Halliday, shivering at the gray pinched look on Curberry's face. "Long ago; long ago; not now," muttered the man, groaning. "Every member of the Society of Flies has this poison to escape arrest, should there be danger. It is a painless poison, more or less, and acts slowly, and--but I have told you all this before. There is not much time," he pressed his hands on his heart, "while I retain my strength and my senses, listen!"
"But where is this woman you call Queen Beelzebub," demanded Dan, looking round anxiously. "I saw her arrive in an aeroplane."
"She did; she came to tell me that you knew all about our society."
"You belong to it?"
"Yes, curse it, and those who dragged me into the matter. I was getting on all right in the law, when I was tempted and fell."
"Your uncle and your cousin----"
"Yes, yes!" broke in Curberry, with another groan, "she said that if I joined the society, they could be got rid of. They were got rid of because I wished for the title and the money."
"But for what reason?"
"So that I could marry Lillian. Moon refused to listen to me so long as I was merely a struggling barrister. But, when I became wealthy and--and--oh, this pain. The poison is a lie like all the rest of the business."
"She declared it was painless, and now--and now----" he broke off, to wipe the perspiration from his face. Dan half rose. "Let me call assistance. It may not be too late----" Curberry pointed his revolver at him as he moved. "Itistoo late," he said, setting his teeth, "if I do not die, I must face the worst. You--you have brought me to this."
"I!" echoed Halliday, sitting down again, "in what way?"
"You meddled and meddled, and--and you sent that telegram."
"I did not."
"Then your meddling has brought the police into the matter. That telegram may have been sent by a friend or an enemy; in either case it is true, for all is discovered. I was----" Curberry gasped with pain again, and moistened his dry lips. "I was sitting with it, wondering if it was best to end things or to wait and see if the warning was a true one. Then she came in through yonder door," he nodded towards the entrance from the terrace into the library. "She told me that you--that you--oh--oh!" he groaned, and rocked himself from side to side, yet kept a grip on the revolver, lest Dan should call or ring for assistance, or endeavor to secure the weapon. "So you took the poison?" said Halliday, wondering how he could manage to evade being shot and summon a doctor. "When she said that all was known, I did. Then she--she----" "Queen Beelzebub you mean?"
"Curse her, yes. Like Eve, she tempted me, and, like Adam, I fell."
"Where is she?"
"Up in Penn's old rooms, searching for any further confession he may have left. Oh," Curberry rocked and moaned, "I thought when I snatched it from you, and burnt it, that all evidence was destroyed."
"I saved a few sheets."
"Do they contain mention of my name?"
"Yes; they do, and----"
"I thought so. I thought so. It's just as well that I took poison. The title and money I paid such a price to obtain will go to my cousin, who is at Oxford--a young fool with no brains. Oh, to lose all when everything was so bright. I could have married Lillian and served my country, and----"
"You could not have married Lillian," interrupted Dan, positively, "for she loves me and me only. As to serving your country, how could you, with an easy conscience, when you have broken its law by taking the lives of your uncle and cousin?"
"I did not. The society saw to that," gasped Curberry with a twisted grin. "You engaged the society to end their lives, you--you--murderer."
"Don't call names," moaned the man, "at least I have not murdered you, although I have every reason to. You meddled with matters which do not concern you."
"I meddled in matters which concern every honest man who loves law and order, Lord Curberry," said Dan, sternly, "apart from the death of Sir Charles Moon, which I was bound to avenge for Lillian's sake, it was my duty to stop this wholesale murder. Perhaps you had Moon killed yourself."
"I didn't; I didn't. It was to my interest that he should live, for if he had I should have been married to his daughter by this time. Queen Beelzebub murdered him because he was offered a chance of belonging to the society and refused."
"In that," said Dan, sternly, "acting as an honest man."
"He acted as a foolish man. For, learning too much, he sent for Durwin to reveal what he knew. Penn found out his intended treachery, and told the Queen. She came--you saw her when she came--and she killed him."
"She killed Durwin?" "Yes," gasped Curberry, who was growing whiter and more haggard every moment. "And Marcus Penn?"
"I killed him. I had to, or be killed myself. He betrayed too much to you."
"Only out of fear," said Dan, looking at the murderer more with pity than with anger, for he was suffering greatly. "Not even fear should have made him reveal anything about the scent. He confessed his folly and was doomed to death. I went away on that day, and then came back secretly, having ordered Penn to meet me by the ornamental water, to speak about the society. He suspected something, because he wrote that confession and let Lillian know where it was concealed. But he came, and I managed to stupefy him with the Sumatra scent, after which I thrust him under water, and, when I was sure he was dead, I got away secretly, returning openly to hear that his body had been found."
"You wicked wretch," said Dan, scarcely able to restrain his disgust, although he felt he should not be too hard on one already being severely punished for his crimes. "Don't call names," said Curberry, with an attempt at a laugh, "after all, I am better than you think, since I am trying to save you. I want you to live and marry Lillian, and keep this confession," he laid his hands on the loose sheets of paper "from Queen Beelzebub, so that you can put an end to her wicked doings. Hide the papers when she comes back, or she will destroy them." As this was very probable, Dan stretched out his hand for the papers. Curberry feverishly gathered them together, speaking in a halting manner, as he did so. "Wait till I put them together," he said, painfully, "this is a full account of my connection with the society and its evil doings. It accounts for the death of Moon, of Durwin, of Penn, and of myself. But, take care, Halliday, for Queen Beelzebub will not give in without a fight."
"She can do nothing," said Dan, watching Curberry pinning the loose papers together. "Laurance has what remains of Penn's confession, and will inform the police shortly. If you would let me get a doctor."
"No, no, no! I refuse to live and face the reward of my wickedness. I prefer to pay the cost of my folly in joining the society. My name is disgraced, but I won't be on earth to suffer for the disgrace. That brainless young fool who succeeds me will not trouble you so long as he gets the money and the title, which he is certain to. But marry Lillian, and take care of her. Queen Beelzebub will strike at you through her."
"She dare not while I hold the confession of Penn," said Dan, grimly, "sooner or later she shall stand in the dock."
"That she never will, believe me. She has a means of escape if the worst comes to the worst. Oh," Curberry half rose, and then fell back in his chair, "the end is coming; my eyes are growing dim, and--and--ah," he uttered a shriek, "save yourself!" and, with a shaking hand, he grasped the revolver. As Curberry's eyes were looking past him, Dan, with the subconscious instinct of self-preservation, had just time to rise and swerve to one side, when a hand grazed his shoulder. The young man gripped his chair, and swung it up as a barrier between himself and a stout woman, who was immediately behind him. She was dressed in a long, black cloak, with a close-fitting cloth cap, and wore a heavy veil of the motor style, with pieces of mica let in as eyeholes. Not a word did she say, but, seeing Dan's action, drew back with a deep, indrawn breath like the hiss of a baffled snake. "Take care; take care; she has--the serpent poison," gasped Curberry, who was sitting loosely in his chair, gripping his revolver. Halliday remembered the wicked wound on Sir Charles Moon's neck, and his flesh grew cold, for the slightest touch of that morsel of shining steel in Queen Beelzebub's hand meant swift death. "You fiend!" he shouted, and, with a cry of anger, flung the heavy chair fairly at her. With the leap of a pantheress, she sprang to one side, and the chair crashed against the opposite wall, while the woman glided rapidly round to the open door of the terrace. A shot rang out as she reached it, and Dan knew that the dying man had fired on his enemy. Apparently the bullet did not reach its mark, for Queen Beelzebub still moved on, silent, sinister, and dangerous. Halliday flung himself forward to get between her and the door, so as to prevent her escape, but with a faint snarl like a beast at bay she stabbed at him with the death-tip's piece of steel. He leaped back to save himself from being scratched, while Curberry dragged himself painfully to the bell-button near the fire-place, and pressed it with his remaining strength. "I'm done for--call the police. You--you, oh!" He fell prone on the hearth-rug, and the revolver dropped beside him. Halliday ran forward on the impulse of the moment to offer aid, hastily picking up the weapon meanwhile, and as he did so, Queen Beelzebub sprang through the door into the open. "She's making for the aeroplane," cried Dan, and would have followed on the instant, but that Curberry gripped him fast. "Stay, stay! A priest; a clergyman. I'm dying," and a deadly fear became apparent in his glazed eyes, "get a--a--a help!" As he cried, retaining Dan's coat in a grip of iron, the door of the room opened, and the butler with the footman beside him rushed in. The shot, as well as the ringing of the bell, had brought them immediately to the spot. Trying to disengage himself, Dan gave hasty orders. "Send for a doctor; send for a clergyman; send for the police. That woman has murdered your master."
"Catch her; stop her--oh--oh!" Curberry's grip loosened, and he rolled over with a moan. Whether he was dead or alive, Dan did not wait to see. Every moment was precious, if he intended to stay the flight of Queen Beelzebub. The terrified men came to assist their dying master, and more servants, attracted by the noise, poured in at the library door. A backward glance showed Dan that Curberry was being attended to, and then he sped along the terrace towards the lawn at the side of the house. Here he arrived, just a moment too late, for already the aeroplane was spinning along the turf, with Queen Beelzebub in the pilot's seat. Like the wicked fairy of nursery tale, she was escaping in her dragon-car, and even in that hour of success she did not utter a sound. Silent and menacing she mounted into the air, and Halliday dashed forward with a cry of rage as she lifted above his reach. There was not a moment to be lost, and without another glance, he raced down the avenue, and made for the entrance gates. Queen Beelzebub might make for her lair in Hillshire, or it might be that she would cross the Channel to seek safety on the Continent; but, wherever she went, Dan intended to follow. She would not escape him this time, and he flew like an arrow from the bow across from the open space outside the park, to where his man still stood guard by his own machine. The little crowd around had their faces turned heavenward, and were shouting at the sight of the biplane, now dwindling to a black dot, as it receded swiftly from Blackheath. Dan felt a throb of satisfaction as he saw that Queen Beelzebub was making for the north. "Out of the way; out of the way," gasped the young man, charging through the throng, and it scattered at his approach, "let her go, let her go!" and he sprang into the pilot's seat to start the engine. Immediately the screw began to spin, slowly at first, but gathering in speed every second. The aeroplane moved, and ran with bird-like swiftness along the ground, then soared with the hum of a giant bee. Halliday swept in a vast circle, like an actor taking the stage, then turned the nose of his machine in the direction of the black dot. This was to be his pole-star towards which he was to continually direct his course, until the goal, wherever it might be, was attained. The many men, women and children standing round the Blackheath shed shouted and cheered, thinking that they were witnessing the start of an exciting race; but they little knew that it was a chase dealing with the serious issues of life and death. Halliday heard the thin sound of their voices reach him faintly, then settled down to handle his biplane in a masterly manner. Since both aeroplanes were made by Vincent, it was probable that both were equal in durability and speed. But Queen Beelzebub had gained a very fair start, and Dan knew that it would require all his knowledge of aviation to catch her up. Her escape or capture depended entirely upon the dexterity with which he manœuvered the delicate structure which bore him. On her part, the woman would use all her knowledge to get away safely, but Dan did not believe that her capability as an aeronaut was equal to his own. In this contest it was science against despair, and given the machines as equal, yet the pilots as unequal, it was hard to say what would be the result. Halliday, racing to save Lillian's life, and to gain her as his wife, believed that the final victory would remain with him. It was an unusually pleasant day, with a pale blue sky, lightly sprinkled with feathery white clouds. A gentle wind was blowing, which was not sufficiently strong to impede the speed of the aeroplanes. Yet it was chilly in these high altitudes, and in his haste Dan had not put on his overcoat. Before the end of the chase he grimly expected to be well-nigh frozen, but did not mind so uncomfortable a prospect so long as he gained his aim. Before him fled the woman he was determined to capture and place in the criminal dock to answer for her manifold sins. Thinking of what she had done, and how her path was strewn with victims, the young man set his teeth and tried his best to force the pace. But this was useless, as the biplane could not do more than it was intended to do. Although he had now been racing northward for over an hour, the distance between pursuer and pursued appeared to be much the same, and the receding black dot did not seem to be growing larger. Dan was irritated, yet felt that even though he was not gaining, he was not losing, and that was much, taking all things into account. There was always the chance that Queen Beelzebub's machine might break down, and then she would be as helpless as a bird with a broken wing. Also--and Dan did not blind himself to this possibility--his own aeroplane might come to grief, as it had done during the London to York race. But, benefiting by his former experience, he did not try any fancy-flying, and held to a straight undeviating course. Both machines were making a bee-line for the goal, which Halliday now guessed very plainly was The Grange in Sheepeak, Hillshire. It had been about two o'clock when the chase started, but already those taking part in it were miles upon miles distant from London, since the aeroplanes were flying at the rate of between fifty and sixty miles an hour. Harrow, St. Albans, Luton, Bedford and Northampton had long since dropped behind, and Queen Beelzebub, swerving to the left, was making for Rugby, so as to get into the straight line for Hillshire, and particularly for Thawley. Passing over the famous school-town the pace slackened somewhat, and Dan managed to secure the advantage of a few miles. But when her machine lifted Birmingham, she increased her speed, a fact which made Dan curse. He had been under the impression that she was running short of oil and petroleum, but apparently this was not the case. She had simply reduced her speed so as to nurse her resources, since she could take this bold step because of the start she had gained at the outset. Halliday grudgingly confessed to himself that the woman, knew her business, as she wasted no time. Her machine neither rose nor fell, nor deviated to right or left overmuch, and all she did was to hold to a straight line at a moderate height above the earth, humoring her engine, and straining as little as might be the wings, spars, bolts, and such-like gear of the biplane. Vincent had taught her admirably, and Dan no longer undervalued her as an antagonist. She was dexterous, bold, resourceful, and venturesome. His admiration, now freely given, was mixed with pity that so clever a human being should debase her gifts to harry mankind. Such qualities as she possessed made her more dangerous, as she was an intellectual animal, slaying with taught skill rather than with instinctive cunning. As the afternoon drew on, and the chase still continued, the night began to shut down. Gliding over Derby the town was veiled in the gray mists of swiftly-falling dusk, and when Nottingham came in sight it was distinguished by a thousand glittering pin-points of light, the usual nightly illumination. Matlock, and Mansfield, Holdbrook and Wayleigh, gleamed beneath like jewelled crowns, and when the stars began to appear the aeroplanes were flying between two firmaments, radiant with multi-colored orbs of light. At last Thawley rose into view burning like a furnace under its veil of smoke and the dim shroudings of twilight, while a vague murmur like the swarming of bees came muffled to the ears of those who drove the machines. Yet at these heights the coming dark was not yet very intense, and Queen Beelzebub's aeroplane, beginning to slacken speed, Dan was able to keep it well in view. He saw it rather vaguely closer at hand, a shadow against the shadow of the gray sky. Minute by minute he drew nearer and began to discern the outlines more or less clearly. But it must be admitted that at the best the clearness was not quite that which deserved the use of such a word. However, Dan, cold, hungry, and weary with the strain on his nerves, could think of none better at the moment. Queen Beelzebub was decidedly losing speed. Her machine seemed to falter after it left Thawley, as if it was doubtful how to find its way home in this world of shadows. But at Beswick the woman made a last effort, as it seemed, like a wounded animal dragging itself faster homeward as it neared its den, and her aeroplane towered aloft to the vast tableland of the moors. Halliday was close behind, and when they hovered over Sheepeak the two biplanes were only a stone throw from one another. He exulted, for now he had driven the woman to her citadel, and for her there was no escape even by her machine, as that was--so to speak--worn out. She was at her last gasp, and would have to fight or yield. She elected to fight when the airships swung in the foggy air over the fields near The Grange. If she alighted, Queen Beelzebub knew that her pursuer would alight also and capture her, so she described a rapid circle with what motive power was left her, and plunged downward on her enemy to ram his machine. Dan saw the movement, and with his hand on the steering gear, swerved to one side, dropping lower as he did so. The other machine swooped harmlessly overhead, but, recovering quickly, once more came down with the dip of a hawk on a heron. Halliday dodged again, then thinking that two could play at the dangerous game, he watched his chance and rushed straightly at his prey. Queen Beelzebub saw him coming, and adopted his tactics--that is, she dropped below his onset, and Dan's aeroplane swept on without result. Once more he came down to her level, and by this time the machines were only twenty feet from the ground. This time, as he dashed forward, the woman was not dexterous enough to get out of the way, and the two clashed violently with a ripping, breaking, smashing sound. With the engines still spinning, but with broken wings, the biplanes dropped to the earth, tangled together, Dan's uppermost, clutching at its prey, so to speak, like a hawk clutching a partridge. Down they came, and the rising earth met them with a smashing blow. Halliday was shaken, but did not become unconscious. Clearing his feet and arms from the tangle of ropes and canvas, he emerged from the confused heap, and dragged out the woman by her dress, which fluttered out from the wreckage. To tear off her veil and light a match took a single minute. "Miss Armour!" cried Dan, greatly amazed. And Miss Armour it was, quite senseless.