"Don't talk nonsense to me," cried Lady Sophia, rapping the dinner-table with her lorgnette. "The idea is too ridiculous for words. To marry a girl out of gaol? Monstrous! Your father would turn in his grave, andhewasn't very particular."
Lord Prelice was dining with his lively relative, when this speech was made at the tail-end of a very excellent meal. Haken had duly returned from Paris on the day after the interview of Prelice with Dr. Horace and his two friends. On finding a note from his nephew stating that he desired to speak on an important subject, Mr. Haken had responded with a wire inviting the young man to dinner. Lady Sophia had also arrived in town from Folkstone, and explained to Prelice, when he appeared, that she would do nothing for Mona. This remark led to a request for explanations, which Lady Sophia was only too anxious to afford, and the presence of footmen and butler at the dinner-table alone kept her from raging at Prelice all the time he was eating. Haken, looking more dried-up than ever, sat at the foot of the table—his wife invariably took the top—and chuckled at intervals. He had not yet heard what Prelice wished to speak about, and was waiting until Lady Sophia retired to the drawing-room, a thing she seemed disinclined to do at present, so rabid was she against her nephew.
Having made the above remark, she waited for a reply; but as Prelice merely crumbled what was left of his bread, and said nothing, she launched out again with a peremptory question. "Do you, or do you not, wish your father to turn in his grave?"
"My dear aunt," replied Prelice very distinctly, "I wish the corpse to take the position it finds the most comfortable."
"Oh!" cried Lady Sophia, outraged in her deepest feelings, "oh, that I should live to hear my late brother called an 'it.' Have you no reverence, Prelice?"
"Not so much reverence, as I have patience," he replied, very bored.
"Ah." Lady Sophia hugged herself. "I might have expected that. You never, never will face the truth."
"What is the truth?" asked Haken, his eyes twinkling, and putting the question of Pilate.
"The truth," said his wife majestically, "is that Prelice must have been changed at nurse. He has not the feelings of his ancestors."
"I have their gout, however," said Prelice humorously. "What possible objection can you have to my marrying. Aunt Sophia?"
"It's not the marriage itself I object to, Prelice, but to the bride you choose. You know that well."
"There won't be a prettier bride in the Three Kingdoms than Mona."
"I am quite sure there won't," said his aunt spitefully, "if she only gets as far as the altar."
"The communion-rails, you mean. I'll do my best to bring her there."
"Not in my presence, Prelice."
"All right. We'll have a quiet wedding."
"A quiet wedding," raged Lady Sophia, "and with such a notorious girl as the bride. Why, all the——"
"Aunt Sophia," interrupted Prelice, growing restive under these insults, "permit me to remind you that Miss Chent is to be my wife, and that I am quite capable of managing my own affairs."
Lady Sophia rose, and swept to the door. "I'm sorry for you. I am truly sorry for you," said she with scorn, and throwing back her head.
"Thank you," replied her nephew meekly, and politely holding open the door; "the same to you, and many of them."
"Oh, Prelice, how I should love to box your ears!" And unable to say anything worse, Lady Sophia disappeared in a royal rage. Prelice did not feel very amiable himself for having been baited unnecessarily, and closed the door with a bang, which said volumes. Then he returned to the disordered dinner-table, poured himself out a glass of port, caught his uncle's twinkling eyes, and laughed in spite of his irritation. Haken nodded approvingly.
"That's better than banging the door," he said, stretching his legs in a genial fashion. "Have a cigar?"
Prelice accepted one of the best, and lighted up, while his host followed his example. When the blue smoke was curling round the old head and the young, and the glasses were full, they dismissed the trouble of Lady Sophia by common consent. Haken looked interrogatively at the young man. "Well," he demanded quietly, "and what have you to say to me? If I know anything of young men, you wish to borrow money." And ended with a chuckle at his joke, knowing the wealth of his nephew.
"And if I know anything of old men," said Prelice coolly, "I should advise them to borrow from their relatives instead of from strangers."
Haken was somewhat startled by this speech, which was as rude a one as Prelice could well have made. But he felt irritable, and wished to smash, rather than break the ice. "What are you talking about?" asked the elder man cautiously.
"About fifty thousand pounds."
"A very tidy little sum," said Haken, quite composed. "I required that precise sum myself a month or so ago, to tide over a crisis."
"Did you get it?"
"Not from Oliver Lanwin," retorted the city man dryly.
Prelice jumped up from his chair, and let his cigar fall. He was far from expecting that Haken would own up so quickly. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on the table, and looked straight into the withered face before him. "What do you mean?"
"Don't burn the carpet with your cigar," said Haken irrelevantly; and when Prelice stooped to pick it up he continued. "I should rather ask you that, my boy. You know something, or else you wouldn't talk of my borrowing, and of the exact sum which I required."
"I know a great deal," said the young man, and sat down.
Haken settled himself luxuriously in his chair. "Let us hear all about it, my boy," said he. "Is your glass filled; your cigar all right? Good. Fire away. I am in a mood for listening."
"Are you in the mood to face danger?" questioned the other man, astonished at this coolness.
Haken wrinkled his brows as a monkey does. "Danger?" he repeated. "And from whom?"
"From Madame Marie, from Captain Jadby, and from Dr. Horace."
"I agree as to the first two," said Haken, perfectly calm, "but I am sure that the last-named will not harm me in any way."
Prelice reflected. "You are right," he said thoughtfully. "Horace is your friend and mine. But the others——"
"Yes. I know all about the others," interrupted Haken in a level voice. "They have their own fish to fry, and are not particular how big a blaze they make to fry them. Of course, I expected you would find out."
"Did you? And why?"
"Why," Haken pushed back his chair, and rose with a chuckle, "didn't Sophia inveigle you into helping young Shepworth and the girl he was engaged to? You could scarcely do that and not cross my trail."
"Why didn't you confess to me?" asked Prelice, much vexed.
"Confess what? That I murdered Lanwin?"
"And that you stabbed Agstone."
"The deuce." Haken started at this last remark. "They accuse me of that, do they? I didn't know that they would go so far. Well," he looked very straightly at his nephew, and with very bright eyes, "you have no doubt heard what these people have had to say, and no doubt they have manufactured good fiction out of certain facts. My character, I take it, is as black as a crow."
"Blacker, if anything."
"No doubt. Well, and what do you say?"
"I say that Jadby and Madame Marie, and possibly Horace, are liars."
Haken walked round the table, and placed his hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Do you believe that I am guilty?"
"Certainly not."
"Why. On what grounds?"
Prelice laughed. He had always doubted the guilt of his uncle, ever since the telling of it in Rutland Square. Now he was sure that, however cleverly the story had been put together, Simon Haken would be quite capable of reconstructing it so as to prove his innocence. He therefore answered, with a laugh: "On the grounds that you are much too clever a man to commit a murder without making things much safer than they appear to be in this instance."
"Thank you," said Haken simply, and after a friendly squeeze of Prelice's shoulder he returned to his seat. A weaker man would have required a more emotional denial, but Haken was too strong and too business-like to trouble about sentiment. "You see," he remarked, when again in his chair, "it would not have suited me to murder Lanwin."
"No," assented Prelice, tickled by the remark; "murder in this country is attended with certain disadvantages."
Haken chuckled, and drank a second glass of port. In spite of his nonchalance, he was more nervous than he chose to admit. "Now tell me how our friends bring home the crime to me, and why they told you about the business."
"I shall tell you the whole case from the beginning," said Prelice after a pause. "My connection with it began when Aunt Sophia came to bully me into doing something."
Haken nodded sympathetically. "When your aunt interferes there is generally trouble. Well?"
Prelice settled himself to work, and recounted the whole story, ending with his parting from Madame Marie on the stairs of Horace's house, and the oath upon the crucifix. Haken smoked quietly while the narrative proceeded, merely raising his eyebrows when he heard how ingeniously the fortune-teller and Jadby proved his guilt. When Prelice concluded Haken chuckled, and passed the port. "Have another glass, my boy," he said quietly; "you must be dry over that talking."
All the same, Prelice noted that the perspiration was beading the old man's brow, and that he was exercising considerable will power to keep himself in hand. While Prelice sipped his fresh glass of wine, Haken walked up and down the length of the dining-room, keeping silent. After quite five minutes he began to talk, still walking steadily.
"I should have come to you for that money," he said in a conversational tone, "only that I don't like taking advantage of my wife's relatives. I needed fifty thousand pounds badly, and when Lanwin refused to lend the money, I scarcely knew what to do. However, the cash turned up unexpectedly, although I had to make a sacrifice to get it. I calculate that I shall have to pay cent, per cent, for that money. However, it is worth it. The worst is over, and everything is going swimmingly. I shall have no further trouble, so don't look glum, Prelice."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of your finances," said the young man quickly, "as I know your head for figures, and know also that the soundest men in the city have their money troubles on occasions. But I am thinking of your being in the power of these wretches. That is," added Prelice, correcting himself, "in the power of Jadby. I don't think that Madame Marie is so bad, and Horace is gruff, but honest."
"Oh, Horace is all right, but Marie is as bad as they make them."
"Nonsense! She wants to help me."
"Selfishly. In order to secure Jadby she must make use of you, otherwise you could go hang. But I must tell you that portions of her story, and Jadby's story, and that of Horace are correct. I got the herb in the way you heard, and I did go down to Hythe to see Lanwin."
"Were you in the library when Madame Marie went to bed?"
"I was," admitted Haken coolly; "but by that time Lanwin had not commenced his hanky-panky with the herb. I asked him straight out to lend the money. He refused, with a word or two of abuse; so I walked away, and back to Folkstone, where I was stopping. There was no row, as I disdained to reply to Lanwin's coarse language. Madame Marie left the library at five minutes after nine; by fifteen minutes past I left it also, and by the window, on my way to Folkstone. What happened after I left I cannot say."
"What was Lanwin doing when you left?"
"Fiddling with his herbs. He came and shut the window after I had gone, and shouted out a word or two as I departed."
"Do you suspect anyone of the crime?"
Haken shrugged his shoulders. "Unless it was Jadby—no," he replied thoughtfully. "Jadby was in London, and did not return until later. You heard his evidence in Court."
"Then Agstone must be guilty."
"Agstone certainly hated his master," said Haken.
"Why," Prelice looked astonished, "I understood that Agstone was devoted to Sir Oliver."
"So Lanwin said, and everyone believed. But the fact is—as I learned from Madame Marie—that Agstone was Lanwin's slave. Sir Oliver knew something about him, which he used as a threat, and so kept him in bondage. Lanwin was not a pleasant character," ended the city man, twirling his cigar.
"Oh," Prelice sunk his chin in his breast, and thought. He knew well enough that so far as the evidence of the knife was concerned, Agstone could not possibly be guilty. Nevertheless, since Agstone had brought the missing will to his brother—and the assassin could only have procured that will—it would seem that the old sailor, after all, had struck the blow. But why had he tried to put the blame on Mona both by placing the knife in her hand and by accusing her? "Did Madame Marie say that Agstone hated Mona?" asked Prelice, raising his head.
"No! On the contrary, I understand that Agstone liked Miss Chent because she was kind to him. Sir Oliver, however, was of a jealous disposition, and Agstone was afraid to display his liking."
"Do you suppose that Madame Marie herself killed Lanwin?"
"Certainly not; she had nothing to gain by doing so, and, moreover, lost a valuable client by Lanwin's death. Marie is fond of money too. She wants to make all she can, so as to marry Jadby. She is strangely infatuated with that rascal."
"Jadby is good-looking in a way," replied Prelice. "Humph! It seems to me that we are as far as ever from learning the truth."
"No doubt," assented his uncle; "still, one thing is certain, that I did not kill Lanwin. As to Agstone——" he hesitated.
"You are not going to confess that you killed him?" said Prelice, with a wry smile.
Haken chuckled. "No; I never tell unnecessary lies. But I certainly saw him dead and Shepworth insensible."
"Oh!" Prelice was quite unmoved, "so you did make use of that key?"
"No," said Haken again, and unexpectedly; "there was no need to. I went down, intending to remonstrate with Shepworth on behalf of Rover, and found that the door was unfastened. I entered, and saw—what you saw—so at once I came upstairs, reclosing the door as I had found it."
"Why didn't you give the alarm?"
"What, with Jadby hanging about, already intending to blackmail me for Lanwin's death? I should have given myself into the hands of the Philistines with a vengeance had I raised the alarm."
"I see. So Jadby was the Continental swell whom you told me that you were to meet?"
"Yes. He insisted upon seeing me at the ball. Why he chose such a place I don't know, and how he got to the ball I can't imagine."
"Oh, that was easy. Remember the masks. Jadby had only to assume a mask and domino, and could slip in easily. But this dress——"
"I didn't wear it," interrupted Haken quickly; "woman's disguise is the last thing I should think of assuming, with my figure and face, to say nothing of my age. It's my opinion——" He paused.
"Well, well?" questioned Prelice impatiently.
"That Madame Marie wore the dress herself."
"But how could she come to the ball? Constance never invited her."
"You answered that question yourself a few minutes ago with reference to Jadby. Madame Marie could easily have slipped on a mask and domino, and have come to the ball to meet Jadby. Probably she wore that dress to implicate Constance, and concealed it in Rover's dressing-room to bring him into the matter. Remember, Madame Marie herself told you where the sham dress was to be found."
"Yes!" assented Lord Prelice thoughtfully; "but how did Madame Marie learn what kind of a costume Constance would wear?"
"Rover told her. Yes! he came to me about Constance's love for Shepworth, and told me that in his efforts to gain his wife's love he had gone to see if Madame Marie could give him a philter of sorts. Infernally silly to act in that way now-a-days. Madame Marie told him to learn the exact costume which Constance would wear at the ball—you see, Constance was keeping her style of dress a secret even from her husband—so that Rover could watch if she went down to see Shepworth. Rover learned about the dress from Constance's dressmaker, and told me, and also told Madame Marie. It was easy then for Madame Marie to get the frock imitated and slip down to Shepworth's flat. By doing that she managed to kill Agstone, to implicate young Shepworth, and to throw the blame on Constance. A confoundedly clever woman is Marie Eppingrave," ended Haken, chuckling.
Lord Prelice rose thoughtfully. "The further we go into this case the more complicated does it become," he remarked. "Certainly Agstone, knowing Madame Marie, would bring her into the room; while not knowing Constance, he would not. Then again, Madame Marie knew about the herb, and Constance did not. It would seem——" He stopped, and walked abruptly to the door. "I must sleep on this," he said wearily.
"But you know that I am innocent now that I have explained," said the old man, following, and speaking anxiously. He liked Prelice, and did not wish him to have a bad opinion of his uncle by marriage.
Prelice grasped Haken's hand. "I believed in your innocence before you gave the explanation," he replied. "Wish my aunt good-night for me, Uncle Simon. I am going home to think over things."
"Your aunt will be annoyed."
"Not so much as I will be, if I listen to her scolding. Good-night."
Haken grumbled a trifle at being left to explain to Lady Sophia, but on going to the drawing-room he found that his wife had gone to a concert in Park Lane. Thus he was saved the trouble of making things smooth, and went to bed very thankfully. Haken was not a young man, and the interview with Prelice had shaken him greatly.
Meanwhile Prelice himself had driven straight to his rooms, and had gone immediately to bed, thinking that he could better argue out the case as it stood when lying down than when sitting or standing. But he was so weary with talk and with the strain of the last few days that he fell sound asleep before he could arrive at any conclusion regarding the guilt or innocence of Madame Marie. It seemed to him that he had only been resting for five minutes when his valet woke him in the morning at nine o'clock; woke him also in a most unpleasant manner by presenting a telegram. Prelice, half awake, tore open the orange-hued envelope, but he was wide awake when he finished reading the news it contained. The wire proved to be from Mrs. Blexey.
"Miss Mona has disappeared."
That was all the wire said, but it was quite enough.
At Lanwin Grange all was confusion. About twelve o'clock on the previous day Mona had left the house with the intention of going to Folkstone to interview Lady Sophia. She was unaware that this formidable personage had returned to London, and wished to explain how much she loved Lord Prelice, so that Lady Sophia might offer no opposition to the marriage. From the time that she had left the Grange she had not been seen. Mrs. Blexey was not alarmed until her young mistress failed to return to dinner, as she had promised. Then the housekeeper had sent a groom with a dog-cart over to the Folkstone hotel at which Lady Sophia was supposed to be stopping. The man had returned with the information that Miss Chent had not been seen at the hotel, and that Lady Sophia Haken had gone back to London. It was then that Mrs. Blexey grew terrified.
"Whatever will his lordship and Mr. Shepworth say?" she wailed. "They will be fit to take the skin off me."
The butler advised an immediate wire to both the young gentlemen; but Mrs. Blexey, hoping to save the situation, refused to listen, alleging that perhaps Miss Mona, walking across the Downs towards Folkstone, had lost herself. But when the night passed, and still the girl did not put in an appearance, the housekeeper was compelled to send telegrams to Prelice and the barrister. The two friends, oddly enough, met at Charing-Cross Station to go down by the same train. Naturally they secured a first-class carriage in order to talk over the disappearance of Miss Chent.
"What do you think about it?" asked Shepworth anxiously.
"It is a new move on the part of that blackguard Jadby," replied the other between his teeth.
"But would he dare?"
"He would dare anything to gain his ends. He tried to shoot you, and now he has kidnapped Mona."
"Are you sure of that, Dorry?"
"What other explanation can there be, Ned? Mona has not returned, and she never went near the Piccadilly Hotel in Folkstone, where my aunt has been staying. I expect after our meeting at Horace's this scoundrel came down, and watched for an opportunity to get Mona by herself. Then he kidnapped her."
"But he could not do that alone and in England."
"No doubt he had help of some sort, and the Downs are lonely. Besides, he threatened at Horace's to do me an injury, and what greater one could he inflict than to carry off Mona? Also, Madame Marie hinted that Jadby would strike at me through the girl I love. By the way, I have sent a special messenger to bring that lady down to Hythe."
"For what reason Dorry?"
"Madame Marie," said Prelice quietly, "may be a bad woman; Uncle Simon says that she is. All the same, she loves that Jadby beast, and will move heaven and earth to secure him. If he has carried off Mona—as I suspect—Madame Marie will help me."
"How can she?"
"She can go into a trance, and see where Mona is hidden."
Shepworth raised his eyebrows. "Dorry, do you really believe in these magical things?"
"There is no magic about them," retorted Lord Prelice bluntly, "save to people who can't see farther than their noses. Everything works under well-defined laws both in the seen and in the unseen worlds. It only needs a person to learn and understand these laws to work what the unthinking call miracles."
"And you believe that this woman——"
"Yes, I do," interrupted Prelice impatiently; "you have only to look into Madame Marie's eyes to see that she has the Sight. She may be a bad lot, as Uncle Simon says, but there are Black Magicians as well as White ones. But there," he ended abruptly, "I am only talking in High Dutch to you."
"I confess that I am not superstitious," said Shepworth thoughtfully.
"Occult powers have nothing to do with superstition," said Prelice in a calm and decisive way. "Everything is law, as I tell you, and when the law is known, certain things can be done. By means of the Sacred Herb, the spirit—that is the astral body—can part from the flesh and go where it will. When Madame Marie arrives at the Grange, I shall make her help me in that way. She will be quite willing, if only to thwart Jadby. But there," Prelice again brushed away his words with a gesture, "I have explained enough to a sceptic such as you are. Let us talk of other matters. What do you intend to do about Constance?"
Shepworth coloured, and looked out of the window at the landscape, which was flying past, dream-fashion. "I do not like to discuss Mrs. Rover even to you, Prelice," he said stiffly.
"Ned," answered his friend, "don't be a fool If you had confided in me when we first met in Geddy's Restaurant a great deal of trouble might have been avoided. Besides, you told Mona, why should you not tell me?" And Prelice waited for a reply.
"I only told Mona that I loved Constance," said Shepworth, after an uneasy pause; "naturally I didn't like to say too much."
"I quite understand. But the fact remains that you love Constance, and that Constance loves you. She is a married woman."
"Unfortunately for me," said Shepworth bitterly.
"And unfortunately for her also, seeing that she is tied to a man who hates her more than he loves her. Rover's pride is wounded, Ned, by his wife's preference for you, and he'll make trouble."
"I see that, and I wish to avoid trouble for Constance's sake. But what can I do?"
"You can move from Alexander Mansions for one thing, and take a trip to the Colonies for another. Rover may die."
"There is no chance."
"Pooh!" said Prelice contemptuously, "the man's a bloodless little rat. And look at those dilated eyes of his—like those of a fierce rabbit, if there is such a thing in nature. I shouldn't be at all surprised if Rover pegged out unexpectedly. He doesn't motor, nor golf, nor bicycle, nor shoot—in fact, he avoids all excitements. So Aunt Sophia told me. That shows how weak his heart is. Depend upon it——"
"No, no!" said Shepworth impatiently; "even for Constance. I do not want to build my future happiness on a man's death. I shall take your advice, and go to Australia for a few years. It will be better for me and for Constance, since here we can only look at one another, and dare not meet, much less speak, save in the presence of others. But there has been no scandal since Rover's marriage, and so far as I'm concerned there shall be no scandal. There, we have talked enough."
"Poor old chap," said Prelice, leaning forward to shake Shepworth's hand, "you're having a deuce of a time. Your Karma——"
"Oh, hang your theosophy!"
"Very good. One wastes words in speaking to the deaf. Besides, the matter of Mona's rescue is more important than anything else. Hang it, how slow this beastly train is!"
This was hard on the engine driver, who was doing his best, and actually was sending along the train at top speed. But had Prelice been mounted on a flying bombshell he would have found its speed too slow, since his thoughts, outstripping all other means of locomotion, had flown long since to the house in the hollow.
However, the longest rivers get to the sea in the end, and the young men found themselves on Hythe platform. A motor car—ordered in advance by wire—waited them, and they were soon buzzing upward to Lanwin Grange. On arriving at the great mansion they were met by Mrs. Blexey, all tears and lamentation. But Prelice, in his stiff military manner, soon reduced her to common-sense talk, and learned that although every inquiry had been made, and every possible place searched, as yet Mona had not been found. She had disappeared as completely as a dewdrop does in the ocean. Even the local police could do nothing.
"Which is just like the local police," growled Prelice. "I say, Ned, you take the car and scout over the Downs. Somewhere about there Jadby may hold her prisoner."
"Oh, sir," wailed Mrs. Blexey, "do you think that such a nasty man has run away with Miss Mona?"
"It is the sole solution of her disappearance that I can think of, Mrs. Blexey. There, there! Don't talk any more. Ned, you go round the Downs, and use the car for speed. I'll wait until the arrival of Madame Marie, and then search Folkstone. Humph!" Prelice looked sharply at Ned. "Do you know if Jadby has a boat, or a yacht, or a steamer of any sort?"
"Yes," said Shepworth, starting to his feet; "now you mention it, I did hear him say to Sir Oliver that he had a small steamer anchored in the Thames. But I can't give particulars."
"Never mind. I'll set the police to work on this possible clue. If that steamer has been brought round to Folkstone Harbour, you may be sure that Mona is held prisoner on board. But if this is so, and Jadby has gone off to the South Seas—which is just what he would do—I'll borrow Uncle Simon's yacht. Twin screw, triple expansion, and a devil to go. I'll follow Jadby to Polynesia, and to hell if necessary," ended Lord Prelice grimly.
Arrangements being thus made, Shepworth went off in the car with a policeman who knew the neighbourhood, and with the chauffeur, who was a magnificent driver—and driving of the best was needed on the rolling uplands of the Downs. Prelice, left behind, waited for Madame Marie, and in the meantime asked Mrs. Blexey about the herb which Horace had given to the girl.
"Was it a small white parcel?" asked the housekeeper.
"Yes. It contained some roots and leaves."
"Miss Mona took it with her," explained Mrs. Blexey; "she asked me to make a linen bag, and then sewed it inside her dress."
"Good," said Prelice; adding to himself: "If she has the herb and can make use of it, she may render Jadby insensible, and escape."
The reflection that Mona had this means of protection quietened him somewhat; but his anxiety rose again to fever heat when Madame Marie appeared. On this woman and on her occult powers depended the chance of saving Mona; but had Prelice told this to the police he would have been jeered at. However, he had his own methods of going about things, and it was not needful for him to expose himself to ridicule. He watched anxiously for the fortune-teller, and was amazed when she arrived in the unexpected company of Mr. Dolly Rover.
"What the devil are you doing here?" asked Prelice rudely.
"I shall tell you," said the little man very deliberately, and looking at the other with his dilated blue eyes. "This morning I went to see Madame Marie about my wife. She loves Shepworth, and I want Shepworth removed out of her path and mine."
"Did you propose murder to Madame?" asked Prelice coolly.
"No," replied Rover, with a shudder, while the fortune-teller sat down; "but I wished Captain Jadby to marry Miss Chent——"
"The deuce you did——"
"To Shepworth. That is, I fancied that Jadby could manage the business, and I offered—through Madame Marie here—a sum of money if the marriage could be brought about."
"Oh, indeed. And did Madame Marie tell you——"
"I told him nothing," interrupted the woman in her deep voice. "I never intended to, without your permission, as I said that I was your friend. Your wire came while Mr. Rover and myself were talking—that is, your messenger came—so I brought Mr. Rover down with me."
"And I came to help to find Miss Chent," said Rover hurriedly. "I want her to be found and married to Shepworth. Any money I can offer to help in the search——"
"I have ample money to deal with the matter," said Prelice, pleased to find that the fortune-teller had respected his confidence about the new engagement. "But I don't see why you need have applied to Jadby to bring about this marriage."
"Because I know that Jadby loves Miss Chent and wants to marry her, Lord Prelice. As you know, that would not remove Shepworth beyond my wife's reach. I wished to bribe Jadby into letting Shepworth marry Miss Chent as was arranged. Then my wife——"
"All right, all right," cried Lord Prelice irritably; "don't worry your head, Rover. I'll see to this. And you had better clear off, back to London. Jadby is a rough customer, and if we get involved in a row it will be bad for your heart."
"My dear Lord Prelice!"
"Yes. Anyone can see—oh, pooh! don't worry me."
"My heart is weak," said Rover with dignity, "and my wife's behaviour is not likely to make it strong. Nevertheless, I shall wait and help in the search for Miss Chent, and bribe Jadby as I said. He must not marry this young lady."
"He won't," Madame assured him coolly; "he shall marry me."
Prelice turned to the fortune-teller. "Will you go into a trance and see where Mona is?"
"I have already been in a trance before leaving Bond Street."
"Then you know——"
Madame looked at him unflinchingly. "I could see nothing but clouds, and clouds, and clouds," she responded. "Only one thing I am certain of, and that is that Miss Chent is hidden somewhere amongst these Downs."
Prelice shrugged his shoulders. "Much good that information does. I quite believe it; but where?"
"I can't say. But," added Madame Marie with animation, "I can tell you that the steamer which Felix owns is coming round to Folkstone Harbour this afternoon. Felix asked me two days ago to tell his captain to take the boat round. I didn't know why he wished that. I can understand now."
"So can I," rejoined Lord Prelice quickly. "Jadby intends to take Miss Chent to the steamer at nightfall, and do a bunk."
"Yes," replied the fortune-teller, breathing hard; "leaving me in the lurch. But he sha'n't—he sha'n't. I'll kill him first."
The young man looked at her curiously, and wished to ask her if she had killed Agstone. But he did not think that it was wise to irritate her at so critical a moment, so merely asked: "What is the name of the steamer?"
"TheKanaro. That is the name of one of the Easter Island statues which are worshipped by the natives."
"Jadby seems to be very closely connected with Easter Island. He certainly has made good use of the Sacred Herb."
"What do you mean?" asked Madame Marie angrily.
"Nothing," replied Prelice, wondering why she should grow so angry. "But I think that we have talked enough. Mr. Shepworth is exploring the Downs in a motor car, so you and Mr. Rover here can go also if you like."
"Yes, yes!" said the fortune-teller eagerly, and with very bright eyes, "we can do that; but I would rather go alone."
"No," said Dolly, piping out his decision. "I wish to aid in finding Miss Chent. I must get her married to Shepworth."
"Very good," said Prelice, with a short laugh; "go and hunt. I shall go into Folkstone and see after theKanaro. Describe her, Madame."
The woman did so at once, and Prelice left the house an hour later with a full knowledge of what kind of a boat Jadby owned. Walking to Hythe, he took the train to Sandgate, and then used the funicular to reach the Leas. Here he swept the horizon and the harbour with his marine-glass to seek for the steamer in which Jadby intended to fly with Mona Chent; but he could see no sign of the boat.
Had Prelice been absolutely wise he would have gone to the police station to engage a couple of constables to board the vessel; but he preferred to trust in his own strong arm and in his own wits, which had hitherto served him excellently. Also, unless the constables had a warrant, they could not board the yacht if refused permission. It was better, thought the young man, to go alone and interview the captain. If Jadby was not open to argument, the captain might be, and an intimation that the law would be put in force if Miss Chent was kidnapped might prevent the commander of theKanarofrom risking his own liberty and the liberty of his crew. So Prelice went down to the harbour, and watched for the coming of the steamer. To his surprise, he found that she had arrived an hour since, and was anchored some distance away from the land. There was no doubt that this was theKanaro, as not only did she correspond to the description given by the fortune-teller, but by means of the glass he saw the name on her stern.
Lord Prelice acted promptly, and engaged a boat to be rowed on board the steamer. When he climbed up the rope ladder hanging over the side he was greeted unceremoniously by a rough-looking man in a nondescript sort of uniform. In reply, Prelice handed his card, upon which the officer's manner changed to one of courtesy. He conducted Lord Prelice to a richly furnished cabin, and removed his cap with an explanation.
"I know your name, my lord," he said politely. "Madame Marie mentioned it to me. I am Captain Brisson, in command of this yacht."
"It belongs to Captain Jadby?"
Brisson shrugged his heavy shoulders. "So he says, my lord; but I think that it is the property of Madame Marie herself. Still as Captain Jadby is to marry her, they can both own it."
"Captain Jadby wants to marry a young lady whom he is kidnapping," was Prelice's sharp reply, "and if you aid him to do so, the law——"
"Stop, sir," said Brisson, rising. "My first mate said something of this to-day. I'll bring him in." And he tramped heavily out.
Prelice waited, but the man did not return. Then he tried the door of the cabin, and found it locked. It flashed across him at once that he had been trapped.
After a strong word or two, Prelice sat down philosophically to consider his position. A weaker man might have raged aimlessly, and have wasted his strength in battering at the closed door; but Lord Prelice was too wise to kick against the pricks. He had been trapped sure enough, and he did not see any way out of the trap. No one knew where he was save the boatman who had brought him, and even as this thought came into his mind he heard the raucous voice of Brisson telling the man that his passenger would remain on board; more than this, Brisson paid the waterman, and sent him away. Until the hue and cry was raised the owner of the boat would say nothing, so it was absolutely certain that Prelice would have to remain in durance vile, without hope of immediate rescue.
The situation, however, was not devoid of certain consolations. Without doubt Jadby's plan was to bring Mona on board theKanaro, and steam away with her to Polynesia. Prelice, at all events, would be on the same boat as the girl, and if it came to fighting with Jadby he felt certain that he could hold his own. Moreover, if, as Brisson declared, the yacht belonged to Madame Marie, he, as her captain, owed fealty to her rather than to Jadby; and the fortune-teller certainly would not allow her steamer to carry Mona Chent to the South Seas to be the bride of her precious Felix. No! Things, on reflection, were not so bad after all. In any case, Prelice felt that he was in the thick of the whole villainous business, and soon would be within arm's length of Mona. When she was dragged on board by her scoundrelly kidnapper, it would then be the time to act. Prelice lovingly fingered a revolver which he had strapped behind him, and wondered if it would be necessary to use it. The weapon formed a strange addition to the very civilised suit of tweeds which he wore, and was out of place in sober, law-abiding England. But then danger and murder and sudden death had entered into his life, and it was necessary to prepare for emergencies.
"I am not a bloodthirsty man," said Prelice, while seeing that his gun was well loaded and worked without a hitch, "but I should like one clean shot at Felix Jadby!" And it may be mentioned that if the shooting took place Prelice would probably hit the bull's eyes, represented by the buccaneer. He was a clean shot, and very quick with his weapon, as those who inhabited uncivilised parts knew from experience.
The afternoon wore on to six o'clock, and still Prelice was left alone in his floating dungeon. Probably Brisson did not desire a personal explanation, knowing that he could not make any very pertinent reply to this breaking of the law. And it was possible that he preferred to leave the explanation to Jadby when he arrived with his prey. Personally, Prelice cared very little. He knew that Mona was safe, though in the power of a scoundrel; for she was a brave girl, and a religious girl, who firmly believed in God. So did Prelice, and he was quite content to think that God, who was slightly stronger than Felix Jadby, would look after his angel. This being so, and the young man knowing that God would bring everything to pass for the best in His own good time, Prelice quietly smoked cigarette after cigarette throughout that weary afternoon. Then he stretched himself on the divan, and went to sleep, wondering how Ned was getting on with his search, and what Madame Marie and Rover were doing.
He was awakened about eight o'clock by a bright light, and a sense that someone was looking steadily at him. With a yawn he opened his eyes, and saw that a steward was lighting the swing lamp over the central table, and that Captain Brisson was looking down upon him. The sailor had a rugged but somewhat good-natured face, and possessed an extraordinary athletic figure, which promised well for fighting purposes.
"Well," said Prelice, swinging his legs on to the floor, "are you going to starve me?"
Brisson burst into a horse-laugh, while his unwilling guest blinked and rubbed his eyes. "You're a plucky chap, my lord," said he approvingly.
"Thanks awfully; but I prefer food to compliments."
"I'm just about to eat myself. Hurry up, steward!" Then, when the man had gone out, Brisson threw his cap on a chair, and resumed. "You wonder maybe why I keep you here?"
"No," said Prelice, stretching himself; "it's all in the game."
"What game?" asked Brisson abruptly.
"The very dangerous one you are playing along with Jadby and your mistress. With Dr. Horace too, for all I know."
"I never met Horace, whoever he may be," retorted Brisson gruffly; "but all I know of the game is that I have to obey orders——"
"If you break owners," finished Prelice, remembering the saying, "and you will break them before you've done."
"None of your larks, my lord. I've got a gun."
"So have I," answered Prelice, "loaded in all six chambers. But you need make no mistake, Brisson. I intend to stop here, and see the game out to the end. Captain Jadby and I have to settle accounts."
"What sort of accounts?"
"Well, Jadby is kidnapping the lady to whom I am engaged. You can't expect me to stand that?"
"I guess not," assented Brisson agreeably. "I'm hitched up with a girl of spirit myself, and if anyone dare to——" He clenched his huge fist, looking pistols and daggers and Maxim guns.
"That's the proper spirit, Brisson. By the way," Prelice got out a cigarette, "you might tell me how much you know of this business."
"Very little, I reckon," answered the captain, more and more puzzled by the young man's coolness. "Jadby and Madame came to London some months ago, and she started the fortune-telling racket, while he went to see his uncle. I anchored the boat in Thames River, and went a loaf round the coast at times to keep the barky in trim. Then the other day Madame sends a message that I'm to bring theKanaroround here, which I have done. Now I'm waiting for further orders."
"When Jadby comes on board with Miss Chent?"
Brisson nodded. "But I don't take any orders from any son of a sea-cook, you can bet your boots. Madame's owner, and she wants to run in double harness with Jadby, rum though her taste may be. If he's skipping with a girl, that's Madame's lookout. I don't sail until she gives the office."
Prelice nodded his approval. "In that case, Jadby will get left," he remarked coolly, "for he's trying to play low down on Madame Marie. By the way, if you know so little of the game, why detain me?"
"Well," said Brisson, scratching his head, "Madame visited the yacht at times when we were swinging off Gravesend. She told me there was some trouble over these murders——"
"You know about them?"
"Only what I read in the papers. But Madame said that you were taking a hand in the meddling way, and that she'd like to keep you out of the whole business. As I like Madame—who is a dandy fine woman with a temper—I put you in quod the moment I heard your name. You must stop here, my lord, until Madame comes on board."
"You have acted in a somewhat high-handed manner, and without any instructions to go upon," said Prelice calmly. "If I wanted to make a row I could."
"Not in this ship," growled Brisson.
"Oh, I think so. Yonder is the port-hole, and there isn't very much distance between this boat and the shore. Also, there are other steamers lying at anchor close at hand. Not to speak of my boatman having been in a position to be spoken to from the port-hole. I could fire a shot or two and rouse the harbour, and I could have hailed my boatman before you sent him away. I did none of these things. And why? Because I am in the very position I wish to be in. Jadby is coming on board, and I want to meet Jadby."
"And to rescue the girl."
"To rescue the young lady," corrected Prelice coldly. "If you attempt to clear out with Miss Chent, I'll make it hot for you."
"What can you do?"
"What I said. I have my revolver. See!" Prelice whipped out his weapon before Brisson could move. "I have you covered. What is to prevent me from shooting you and racing on deck to swim ashore?"
The captain did not move a muscle. "You can put the gun down, my lord," said he, with a note of admiration in his voice. "I promise you that I won't steam for the Southern Cross until Madame gives the word."
"Madame won't come on board."
"Then I wait until she does," retorted Brisson. "Will you put that gun down, or am I to be shot?"
"You are more use to me alive than dead," said Prelice, and slipped his derringer behind him, handy for the grip; "but I see the tea is on the table. I'm infernally hungry."
Brisson smacked his great thigh, and looked at Prelice with much admiration. "Guess you'll come home on the winner," said he as they sat at table, "and I should just love to see you get the bulge on that son of a sea-cook."
"Meaning Jadby?"
"Meaning Jadby," assented Brisson gravely. "Have some salt tack."
The hungry guest assented very readily, and ate a decent meal of extremely bad sea food. Prelice was not fastidious when in the wilds, and passed over the table like a prairie fire. At the conclusion of the meal Brisson mixed him a tot of rum, and handed along a box of very good cigars, which had never paid duty. Then to pass the time until Jadby arrived, they chatted. Amongst other things, Prelice learned that Brisson had met Sir Oliver Lanwin, and did not like him. The baronet had a bad record in the South Seas.
"I was in his service once," growled Brisson, cutting up tobacco with a clasp-knife; "but he gave me the chuck 'cause I wouldn't pile up a schooner, which he'd insured for wrecking. Agstone did it, though." And he filled a dirty little pipe with the rank tobacco.
"Humph! You knew Agstone?"
Brisson nodded. "He was a fairy-tale pirate, was Agstone," said he. "Lord, I could put in the night yarning about his doings. Murder amongst 'em too." And he spat. "Sir Oliver knew of that, and got the hang of Aggy. No wonder Aggy got square with him."
"Do you mean to say that he murdered Sir Oliver?"
"You can hold on to that, my lord. Sir Oliver treated Aggy like the old devil treats a holy man. Course I wouldn't swear to Aggy's knifing him in a Court o' Law; but it sounds like Aggy. Wonderfully quick with his sticker, was Aggy."
"And who do you think murdered Agstone?"
Brisson leered. "You've got me there," he confessed. "I can't lay my hand on the son of a gun that did that."
Prelice nodded. Possibly Agstone had turned on his tyrant to send him below; but it was impossible to say who had sent Agstone to join the baronet. "About Madame Marie, now. Is that her real name?" he inquired.
"Oh yes. Marie Eppingrave. She's the daughter of a Tahiti merchant and a French lady. There's no half-caste rubbish about Madame, you bet. She's got cash too—this yacht, and a slap-up island all to herself. Why she wants to collect Jadby into her life, I dunno; but there, you can't understand womenfolk."
"You like Madame Marie?"
"Seeing she nursed me through a yellow fever bout and gave me this command, I do," said the man of the sea. "A good sort is Madame, with a temper of sorts, of course, as every woman should have. She'd knife a man as soon as look at him, and nurse him square after her temper had busted. Wish she'd knife Jadby. He's a rotten beach-comber."
"Humph!" Prelice thought for the space of half a cigar. "And Madame Marie's fortune-telling?"
"Well, I guess there's no explanation of that, my lord. She's got piles of cash; but maybe her heart's in them hocus-pocus things. I've seen her do some rum business on occasions. When she looks at you, you feel cold water freezing your spine. Can't say I'd like to have her to be Mrs. Brisson, even if I put my old gal into her wooden overcoat. But Madame Marie's a dandy fine woman. No mistake about that."
In suchlike conversation did the two wile away the time until ten o'clock, then they went on deck. Brisson was quite willing to allow Prelice to accompany him, as he had grown to like the young man, and, moreover, was ready to take his word that he would not try to escape. But Prelice warned him that he would make trouble to save Mona if needful, and Brisson being on the side of Madame Marie was agreeable that it should be so. Besides, he had a sneaking liking for Prelice's somewhat stormy wooing, and wished to help him. Perhaps a strong dislike for Jadby had something to do with Brisson's attitude.
It was a perfect night, lighted by a brilliant moon and countless stars. A warm wind was blowing from the land, and far up on the heights twinkled the innumerable lights of Folkstone. TheKanarorocked at anchor a stone's throw from the shore, and many other vessels of a less piratical nature were anchored in the harbour. The water shone like a sheet of silver, and the green and red riding-lights of the ships glittered in the sheeny depths. Prelice leaned over the side of the boat, and strained his eyes to see if any craft was approaching theKanaro, but for quite half-an-hour he beheld nothing. However, he was tolerably certain that Jadby would come carrying Mona with him, and felt if his revolver was ready in his hip-pocket. If need be, he was resolved to shoot the buccaneer; and who can blame him, considering how basely Jadby had acted?
It was when the clock from the church tower boomed out eleven that the trouble came. Brisson laid his big hand on Prelice's arm, and pointed to a boat which was putting off from a somewhat deserted part of the shore. Three figures were in it, two rowing and one seated holding the tiller-ropes. The rowers were labouring hard to reach theKanaro, and Prelice saw through his glass that other figures on the land were launching another boat to follow.
"There's going to be a holy show," swore Brisson under his breath. "I wish——" He fingered his revolver, but did not dare to use it. The place was too civilised.
The first boat came on swiftly, and Prelice discerned that Jadby was rowing with the other man, and that Madame Marie was seated in the stern. He could see nothing of Mona, and his heart thrilled, as he thought from the presence of the second boat, which had now put off, that the girl had been saved, and that her kidnapper was now being pursued. Brisson watched the race between the two boats, and then ran on to the bridge. Prelice heard him shout to the engineer to start the engines—for the boat had steam up—and a minute later he heard the steady throbbing of the screw, while a rush of men hastily pulled up the anchor. Apparently Brisson saw that the only chance of safety for Madame Marie and Jadby was to have the boat ready to start, and risked the engines going before the anchor was up. Indeed, this latter took so much time, and time was so precious, that he shouted out to let the anchor slip, and the roar of the chain showed that his orders had been obeyed. Meanwhile many people were rushing to and fro on the shore. It was apparent that everyone knew something untowards was going on, and that there was intense excitement. Already other boats were putting off, and Brisson was cursing, like the old salt he was, at the danger of his beloved mistress.
The first boat swung near the side of the yacht, and Brisson raced from the bridge to the side to shake out the rope ladder. Madame Marie rose to grip the rope; but in a moment Jadby was on his feet, and catching her round the waist, had thrown her into the sea. Brisson gave a cry of wrath, and as Jadby placed his hand on the ladder, he leaned over, fumbling behind with his hand. The next moment there was a clear, sharp crack of a revolver, and Jadby, with a wild cry, fell off the ladder into the sea. The boatman cowered in his craft; and Prelice could see the head of Madame Marie appear some distance away, as she came to the surface and drifted with the tide. On witnessing the sudden catastrophe, the second boat rowed towards the drowning woman.
Brisson uttered a shout of rage as Madame Marie was pulled into the boat, and ran up again on to the bridge.
"Damn it, they've got her," he yelled, and twirled the dial to "Full speed ahead." Then he sprang to the wheel, and wrenched it out of the steersman's hands.
Prelice soon saw what he meant. TheKanarobore straight down on to the boat. Brisson was evidently prepared to kill his mistress rather than let her fall into the hands of her enemies. A shout of dismay arose from the boat as the great bulk of the yacht swung forward. In a flash Prelice took his choice, and poised his revolver at the mad captain. There was a crack of the revolver, a cry from Brisson, and he went down like a shot, while the boat swung helplessly in the harbour, the engines working powerfully, but the wheel swinging idly.
Two or three sailors seeing that Prelice had shot the skipper, came towards him with a rush. The young man did not lose time. He jumped on the taffrail, and dived straight into the silver tide. As he rose to the surface the crew flung belaying-pins and spars, and bits of coal lying on the deck, at him. One man, with a straighter aim than the others, hit Prelice with a lump of hard coal. The young man uttered a gasping cry, and flinging up his hands, went down. His last look was at the yacht, and he saw that she swung round, and was heading full speed for the entrance to the harbour.