Jack had merely drawn a bow at a venture, but the shaft went home to the feather. By instinct he seemed to divine the fact that the stranger who knew so much of Anstruther's inner life might also know as much as the man called Nostalgo, otherwise Seymour. This instinct did not play Jack false, for he saw his companion stagger back as if he had been shot. He fell into a chair, and plucked feebly at the arms of it with his fingers.
"You are on dangerous ground indeed," he said hoarsely. "Have you a wife depending on you, or one you love? If so, turn your back upon me at once, and never see my face again."
It was a warning deep, thrilling, and impressive. But Jack merely shook his head and smiled. He had no intention of turning back now.
"I know too much or too little," he said. "Mr. Seymour is by way of being a friend of mine--in fact, I was the means of doing him a great service the other night. But I see from the expression of your face that you know all about that."
"Have you seen Seymour in the daylight, just as he is?" the stranger asked eagerly. "You know what I mean."
"I know what you mean perfectly well," Jack replied. "Ihaveseen Seymour just as he is. To make another shot, I have also seen Lord Barmouth just as he is."
The stranger sat bolt upright in his chair, and regarded Jack with grim satisfaction.
"This is good news indeed," he said. "I am pleased to find out that I am betraying no secrets in my conversation with you. What I want you to do is this--I want you to arrange a meeting between Seymour and myself. It will be dangerous for me to leave the hotel at present, so that you must arrange it in a way that Seymour can come here."
"If you will be good enough to tell me your name," Jack suggested. "It is just possible----"
The stranger shook his head, and hoped that Jack would not deem him guilty of being discourteous if he withheld his name for the present. He took from a desk a small, curiously-designed ring, and passed it across to Jack.
"I think you will find that all that is necessary," he explained. "If you will take that ring and say that it came from the owner, I am quite sure that Seymour will be willing to fall in with my wishes. And now, I will bid you good-night, sir. It is good to know that we have a man of your courage and intelligence on our side."
So saying, the stranger rose to his feet, and extended his long, slim hand to Jack. He intimated that Jack might come and see him from time to time, but that caution would be absolutely necessary.
"Ask for Jabez Smith," he said. "That is the name under which I am known here. If you only knew how fortunate a thing it is that we have met to-night! But Lord Barmouth and Seymour will be able to prove that to you presently. Once more, good-night."
The door closed behind Jack; he heard the click of the lock, and found himself alone in the corridor. He could see that there were still many people smoking and chatting in the big lounge below. The great hall door was not yet closed, so that it was possible for Jack to slip into the street absolutely unnoticed. He felt restless and excited, and absolutely devoid of any desire to rest. Sleep in the circumstances would be out of the question. It was no use going home, there to toss and fret all night. It was just possible, too, that Rigby had not yet left thePlanetoffice, as it was barely one o'clock. Anyway, a walk in the cool night air was bound to prove invigorating. It did not much matter, however, whether Masefield saw Rigby or not. He could tell him all this exciting history in the morning.
But Rigby was still in his office, waiting for a proof; after which he declared he meant to go to the Press Club for supper. It was an entertaining supper, for Jack's narrative was piquant enough, as he had so much to tell. "Well, you have had a night of it," Rigby said enviously. "Who are you that you should have all the luck like this? Here have I been all the evening, doing nothing to earn the approval of my proprietor, whilst you have been getting at the heart of the mystery. I shall have to divide my fee with you, Jack."
For a long time they discussed the matter in all its bearings. What seemed to interest Rigby more than anything else was the scheme proposed by Anstruther to get Carrington out of his serious position. He saw great possibilities now that the plan of the bank premises had come into the possession of the man Seymour, especially as the conspirators were unaware of this.
"We ought to be able to make a good thing out of this," he said thoughtfully. "Of course, it will all have to be worked out very carefully; but I should like to catch those fellows in the trap they have laid for others. After all, it makes no difference to you how Anstruther is got out of the way, so long as he receives a good dose of penal servitude. That once being done, we shall be able to work quite openly, and it is evident that your new friend Seymour can expound the whole of the Nostalgo business. I shall get my special article for thePlanet,after all; but it will be more thanks to you than to my own efforts."
"Well, you needn't tell Van Jens that," Jack laughed. "Give me the outline of your scheme."
"I want to force Carrington's hand. I want him to understand how desperate his situation is, so that he and Anstruther must take action at once. Now, for instance, you tell me you heard Carrington say to-night that his bank has a great amount of jewelry in its keeping. Is that so?"
"Theyhadit in their keeping," Jack said, drily.
"Well, that is exactly what I mean," Rigby responded. "And Carrington is in mortal terror lest some great lady should come along at any moment and demand her gems. You will remember telling me that Carrington was especially apprehensive over the great masked ball which is coming off at Lady Barmouth's in two days' time. Do you happen to know any of the titled women who are asked? If you could get one of them to go round to Carrington's to-morrow and ask for her gems, why----"
"I see exactly what you mean," Jack cried eagerly. "We should force the hands of those two scoundrels, and compel them to do something without delay. By so doing, also, we should upset the delicate schemes of Anstruther--?"
"You have got it exactly," Rigby murmured. "Can you bring this about? It should easily be done."
"I don't see very well how I can do it myself," Jack responded. "But Claire knows a great many of these people, and I should think she would not have the slightest difficulty in doing what we need. Anyway, I'll go round and see her to-morrow morning, and tell her exactly what has taken place. Is it all that time? Really, I must go to bed and try and get some sleep. Good-night."
After all, youth will be served, even in the way of sleep; and Jack was surprised to find, on waking next morning, that it was nearly ten o'clock. It was nearly twelve before he knocked at the door of the house in Panton Square and asked to see Claire. It was Serena who answered the summons--Serena, gray and silent and subdued in the morning light. All the same, she gave Jack one swift, furtive glance before her eyes sought the floor again.
"I will go up to the drawing-room myself," Jack said. "So you are none the worse for your last night's adventure, Serena? Come, you need not look at me like that, and pretend not to understand. What were you doing in Mr. Carrington's flat last night?"
A sound like a sob broke from Serena, but she answered nothing. "If you only knew how profoundly sorry I am for you," Jack said softly. "When the time comes, you will have to speak; and when the time comes we shall deal with you as kindly as possible. Although you refuse to speak now, you must not believe otherwise than that. We know everything. We know, for instance, where you were last night, and we have nothing to learn as to the deaf mute and the young man who has a fancy to wear his moustache in the same form as the style affected by the German Emperor."
Serena listened, with her eyes fixed mutely on Jack's face. It seemed to him that she was bursting with anxiety to speak, but that some strange force held her tongue and choked her utterance.
"Do not go too far," she said presently, in a strained, hard whisper. "Not that I mean to threaten you. Believe me, I am all on your side; but I dare not speak. You may call me coward if you like; you may say that I have no nerve or courage; but if you had gone through the hell that my life has been the last few years, you would wonder that I had the strength of mind to look even the feeblest fellow creature in the face."
Just at the moment when it seemed to Jack that Serena was likely to take him into her confidence, she turned abruptly away, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Jack went slowly and thoughtfully up-stairs to the drawing-room, where he found Claire with her hat on ready to go out. It was clear that she had not expected him, but her welcome was none the less warm for that.
"I am afraid I shall have to detain you a little time, dearest," Jack said. "A great deal has happened since I saw you yesterday, and I think you ought to know most of it. Sit down a moment, please." Claire sat by her lover's side, and listened intently to the strange story that he had to tell. It was clear from the expression of her blue eyes that she was a little fearful for her lover. She clutched his arm impulsively, and he responded to the touch. It was not difficult for him to realize what was passing in her mind.
"You need not have any anxiety as far as I am concerned," he said. "Very fortunately for us, those scoundrels have not the least idea that we know so much of their movements. But what I came here especially for this morning was to ask you if you knew anybody going to Lady Barmouth's dance whose jewels are in the keeping of Carrington's bank? I think I explained Rigby's point to you. Do you know anybody who could help us?"
"I know one who could help you who is not very far off, dear old boy," Claire smiled. "You seem to have forgotten that I am rather an important person in my small way. Did I never tell you of the jewels that my grandmother left me?"
"I declare I had quite forgotten them," Jack said. "I never care to associate you with money, especially as I have so little of my own. Diamonds, weren't they?"
"Diamonds and sapphires," Claire explained. "They are really almost unique in their way. I generally keep them, on the advice of my guardian, with Mr. Carrington. Let us go round there now and ask for the gems."
It was not exactly what Jack had meant, because it occurred to him that Carrington might easily vamp some excuse so far as Claire was concerned, and then get Anstruther to invent some reason why the jewels were not forthcoming. Still, it might do, and there was no reason why they should not try it.
"I was going really to see Lady Barmouth," Claire explained. "But I can call in there as we return from the city. Let us have a hansom at once."
The imposing offices of the City and Provincial Bank were reached at length. There was nothing inside or outside the place to denote that the concern was trembling to the verge of bankruptcy. Mr. Carrington was not busy, a polite cashier informed them, and he would be pleased to see Miss Helmsley at once. Jack followed in behind Claire, and he could not but be impressed by the ease and assurance of Carrington's manner. The latter did not show the slightest signs of agitation when Claire explained her presence there.
"Certainly," he said. "You have come, of course, provided with your guardian's signature. No? I am afraid we cannot dispense with that formality. Send it on by messenger, and one of our own clerks shall bring the jewels round. What a delightful morning it is! Good-bye."
Jack accepted his checkmate cheerfully enough. It was exceedingly adroit and clever on Carrington's part, and some other method of forcing his hand would have to be adopted. Jack was bowing himself out, when some one else came sailing into the room; and, to his great delight, Jack recognized Lady Barmouth. He divined at once what she had come for and what her errand was.
"Good-morning, all of you," she cried, gaily. "Mr. Carrington, you will not thank me for disturbing you this time of the day, but as I happen to be passing this way I thought I would save trouble. Will you be so good as to hand me over my jewels?"
Carrington made no answer. His face was pale as ashes.
It was a dramatic moment, especially for Claire and Jack, who fully appreciated the peril in which Carrington stood. The fact was not hidden to them that Carrington's excuse to Claire was but an ingenious way out of a terrible difficulty. On more than one occasion Claire had herself fetched her jewels from the bank, and no objections had been raised. Still, Carrington was clearly within his legal right, and Jack could not but admire the swiftness with which he had got himself out of the tangle. His own face was a model of absolute indifference; he just glanced at Claire to see if she expressed any suspicion. But Claire smiled in a way so natural and artless that Jack had no fears of her for the future.
With Lady Barmouth, however, it was quite a different matter. As yet, she knew nothing of the terrible straits in which Carrington found himself involved. She had come down for her jewels in the ordinary way, as she had done many times before, and expected to take them away with her. Carrington affected to be talking to somebody down the speaking tube, but in reality he was fighting to gain time and work out some ingenious excuse. Jack enjoyed his dismay with a feeling of grim satisfaction. But Carrington was not quite done with yet; evidently he had not sat at the feet of Anstruther for nothing. He looked up presently, and smiled with the air of a man who is only too willing to do anything for his client.
"Will you take a seat for a moment, Lady Barmouth?" he said politely. "I see that you know Miss Helmsley and Mr. Masefield. I must go and speak to our cashier for a moment."
"You cannot get the jewels yourself?" Lady Barmouth asked.
"No," Carrington explained. "Of course, we are bound to take precautions. I have no more power to open one of the safes by myself than one of my junior clerks."
"That would be awkward if you wanted anything out of bank hours," Jack suggested. "How do you manage then?"
"Well, we simply don't manage," Carrington said. He was quite himself again by this time. "I can no more get into the strong room that you could. I should have to get the manager and chief cashier before a safe could be opened."
All this sounded plausible enough, as Jack was bound to admit. Carrington went off with a jaunty step, as if he had all the millions of the Bank of England behind him. Jack wondered how he would get out of the mess. But the solution of the puzzle was quite easy. Carrington came back with a look of annoyance on his face.
"I am exceedingly sorry, Lady Barmouth," he apologized. "The fact is, Mr. Perkins has been called away on important business to our West-End branch. He cannot possibly get back in less than an hour. Do you want your jewels in such a hurry?"
Lady Barmouth was fain to confess that she didn't. She would not require them till the following evening; only some time must necessarily be spent in the cleaning of them.
"Plenty of time for that," Carrington smiled. "I will send a special messenger in a cab to bring the cases to your house by lunch time. I hope that will be convenient to you."
Lady Barmouth, innocent of the part which she was playing in the comedy, replied that that arrangement would suit her exceedingly well; indeed, she was sorry to give so much trouble. She swept out of the bank parlor, followed by Jack and Claire. A well-appointed brougham stood outside, and she smilingly offered her companions a lift.
"I am going to take Claire back to lunch with me," she said. "Can I set you down anywhere, Mr. Masefield?"
"You can set me down, if you please, on you own door-step," Jack smiled. "As a matter of fact, I was just going to see Lord Barmouth, and now I have something serious to say to you. Were you satisfied just now? About the jewels, I mean?"
Lady Barmouth looked puzzled as Jack followed her into the brougham. She saw nothing, so she said, to arouse any suspicions, except that she thought a needless fuss had been made over her gems. She was still discussing the matter, when the brougham reached Belgrave Square, and the three alighted. Once they were in the drawing-room, Lady Barmouth turned to Jack and asked him what he meant. He shook his head doubtfully.
"I am afraid I am going to upset you very much," he said. "But unless I am greatly mistaken, you are never likely to see your diamonds again."
Lady Barmouth stared open-mouthed at the speaker. She explained that her diamonds were of great value; indeed, some of the stones were historic. Those diamonds had often been mentioned in personal paragraphs, which are such a feature in the modern newspaper, and Jack recollected a description of them perfectly well. He proceeded to explain, at considerable length, the history of his last night's adventure. Lady Barmouth's face grew still more grave when at length the recital was finished.
"This is a very serious matter," she said . "Do you know this is likely to cost Lord Barmouth something like fifty thousand pounds? The City and Provincial Bank does a good deal of business with people well known in Society, and I am afraid many of us will be involved. What do you suppose has become of those diamonds, Mr. Masefield?"
"They have been pawned, of course," Jack said. "Carrington has taken that dreadful risk in the desperate hope of retrieving his position. But the whole scandal is bound to become public property before eight and forty hours have passed."
There was nothing for it now but to wait and see what time would bring forth. Lord Barmouth was not yet down; indeed, his man said that he would not appear till after luncheon. But there was no lack of animated conversation in the drawing-room, and the discussion was continued till the gong rang for lunch.
"I tell you what I think the best thing to do," Lady Barmouth said, as Jack held the drawing-room door open for her. "You are a barrister, and accustomed to deal with legal matters. If those stones fail to arrive by half-past two, I will give you my written authority, and you shall take it to the bank and insist upon something definite being done."
Luncheon was a thing of the past, and it was getting on towards three o'clock, when a cab drove up to the door, and a footman announced the fact that a gentleman from the City and Provincial Bank desired to see Lady Barmouth. She returned presently, beaming with smiles, and announced that Jack had been mistaken; for the gems had not only been delivered, but had also been handed over to the speaker's maid.
Slightly taken aback, Jack expressed a natural curious desire to see the stones in question. Lady Barmouth rang the bell, and presently a smart French maid appeared, bearing four shabby-looking cases in her hand. They were laid on the table, and Jack suggested that Lady Barmouth should open one of them.
"I see you are still suspicious," she smiled. "Evidently things were not so desperate with Mr. Carrington as you appear to imagine. What do you think of those?"
With pardonable pride, Lady Barmouth lifted the cover of one of the cases and displayed the flashing contents to Claire's admiring eyes. A livid stream of flame dazzled and blinked in the sunshine. Claire's cry of delight was echoed by an exclamation of astonishment from Lady Barmouth.
"There is some extraordinary mistake here," she said . "I admit that these stones are exceedingly beautiful, but, unfortunately, they are not mine at all. They look to me much more like the property of the Duchess of Birmingham. I have no pearls or emeralds--my jewels are all diamonds and sapphires. The cases must have been changed; a mistake easily accounted for, as they are both green wraps."
But Jack was not in the least convinced. This was some desperate expedient to lull Lady Barmouth's suspicions to sleep for the time. And doubtless Carrington had gone off hot foot to Anstruther, and implored him to find some way out of the terrible difficulty. Another idea occurred to Jack, but this he did not dare to mention for the present--it was too suggestive of a situation from some melodrama.
"I think I can explain the whole thing," he said. "But, first of all, I should like to take Lord Barmouth's opinion on the matter. Probably he has finished his own lunch by this time. Will you see if he is ready to receive me?"
Lord Barmouth was glad enough to see Jack, and welcomed him quite cordially. Then Jack laid the jewel cases upon the table, and proceeded to relate once more the story of last night's happenings. He concluded with a description of his visit to Carrington, and epitomized the incident of the changed jewels.
"Certainly a most extraordinary thing," Barmouth said. "I rather gather from the expression of your face that you have some solution to offer."
"Indeed I have," Jack said eagerly. "This is merely a trick to gain time, and an exceedingly clever trick, too. Carrington had naturally assumed that we know nothing of his desperate position. If we were in the dark on that point, the mistake would look exceedingly natural. But, knowing what we do, the situation is entirely changed. I don't believe those are the Duchess of Birmingham's diamonds--I don't believe they are diamonds at all."
"By Jove! You have hit it exactly," Barmouth cried. "What a really magnificent idea! Carrington has no diamonds; therefore he lays out, say, a couple of hundred pounds in some showy-looking paste, and sends them round here as my wife's gems. She, absolutely innocent of any deception, sends them back and asks to have the mistake rectified. Back from the bank comes a polite note of regret apologizing for the mistake, and promising the proper stones for to-morrow, the cashier having left for the day."
"Exactly my idea," Jack cried. "But we can soon settle that, Lord Barmouth. You have only to telephone to your family jeweler, and ask him to step round here for a moment."
Barmouth fell in with the suggestion at once, and a telephone message was dispatched to the famous firm of Flint & Co., in Bond Street. Mr. Flint himself arrived a few minutes later, and the dubious gems were laid before him. He had not the slightest hesitation in giving his verdict.
"Paste, my lord," he said briefly, "and pretty poor stuff at that. I can see that, even in this dim light. See how dull these stones are! Real gems, even in semi-gloom, shimmer and sparkle, but these don't show up at all. The whole lot did not cost more than two hundred pounds; in fact, these things are little better than stage jewels."
"Can you tell us where they come from?" Jack asked.
"Certainly I can, sir," Mr. Flint replied, promptly. "There are occasions when clients of ours are compelled to exchange the real for the false. In cases like that we go to Osmond & Co., of Clerkenwell, where these came from. I hope there is nothing wrong."
Barmouth said politely that that matter could be discussed on a future occasion. He would not detain Mr. Flint any more for the present, and the latter bowed himself out of the room.
"What do you propose to do now?" Barmouth asked.
"Well, with your permission, I propose to strike while the iron is hot," Jack said. "It is quite evident that this rubbish has been purchased very recently from Osmond's. If you will allow me to do so, I will go at once with the cases to Clerkenwell, and ascertain the purchaser. If we can bring Carrington to book promptly, we may recover Lady Barmouth's jewels yet."
Barmouth had nothing to say except in praise of this suggestion. Accordingly, Jack set off in a cab for Clerkenwell, where he had no difficulty in finding the fine business premises of Osmond & Co. He lost no time in diplomacy, but proceeded to lay the whole matter before the head of the firm.
"You will see there is something very wrong here," he said. "This manufacture of yours has been deliberately substituted for some valuable gems belonging to a lady whose name I am not at liberty to divulge for the present. Mr. Flint, of Bond Street, says that the paste has been purchased from you. We have absolute proof of the fact that the stuff was bought during the past two hours. I shall be glad if you will tell me the name of the purchaser. I don't suppose the stuff was booked.
"Mr. Osmond explained that theirs was practically a cash business. A few inquiries elicited the fact that the paste had been bought about two hours before by a tall, slim gentleman, who had driven up in a hansom cab. There was another gentleman in the cab, but he had not entered the shop.
"Were the jewels paid for in cash?" Jack asked.
They had not been paid for in hard cash, the cashier explained. The bill had come to two hundred pounds altogether, and had been made out to a Mr. Morrison. He had paid for them with twenty ten-pound notes in a most businesslike way, and gone away again--the whole thing not having taken more than five minutes. Jack suggested that he would like to see the notes. They were fresh and clean, but across the face of all of them was a circular blue mark bearing the words, "City and provincial Bank!"
Here was proof positive enough to convict Carrington of the crime which had been alleged against him. Nor did Jack doubt for a moment that Anstruther was at the bottom of this daring and original scheme. The mere fact that there was another man in the cab with Carrington was sufficient to prove this point, for nobody else was likely to accompany the bank manager on so delicate and private an errand. Where the fatal mistake came in, was in Carrington taking the Bank of England notes from his own safe, and ignoring the fact that the official blue stamp was upon them.
As Jack stepped into the street, he had pretty well made up his mind what to do. Not for a moment did he believe that Carrington had an accomplice amongst his own staff. Jack reached the premises of the City and provincial at length, and asked to see Mr. Carrington. He was told that that gentleman had suddenly been called out on important business, and was not expected back to-day. But Masefield was not in the least disappointed to hear this. There was nothing for it now, but to return to Belgrave Square, and tell the Barmouths what had happened. He found Lord Barmouth in the drawing-room, where the blinds had been pulled down. Lady Barmouth had gone to an important function which she could not very well ignore, and had taken Claire along with her. Lord Barmouth listened gravely to all that Jack had to say.
"I am very much afraid that my wife will have to put up with the loss of her gems," he said. "No doubt they and many others are pledged with some great firm of pawnbrokers. The only consolation one has is the possibility of getting the stuff back by paying half its price over again. But matters cannot be allowed to rest here. Carrington knows that he is at the end of his tether; consequently, that clever bogus burglary you heard discussed last nightmusttake place this evening. What do you propose to do? In my present unfortunate condition I can't interfere. The only thing I can do is to leave it entirely in your hands."
Jack went off presently to seek Rigby, whom he found at his rooms. The latter looked up eagerly, for he could see from his friend's face that Jack had a great deal to tell.
"There is one little thing that seems to stand in the way of our ultimate success," Jack said, thoughtfully, "and that is as to Lady Barmouth's brother. I am afraid that he is in some way mixed up with this business--to his detriment, I mean. I should not care to do anything likely to cause additional pain to that estimable lady after all her great kindness."
Rigby looked up in some bewilderment. Apparently he did not quite understand the drift of Jack's argument.
"I may be very dense," he said, "but I don't follow you. What can Lady Barmouth's brother have to do with it?"
"Well, you must cast your memory back to the night of the great adventure, when Lady Barmouth played so courageous a part, and got us out of a serious difficulty. Do you follow?"
"I think I do now," Rigby said slowly. "Oh, yes; it is all coming back to me. Lady Barmouth asked Redgrave where her brother was, and Redgrave replied that he knew nothing about the individual in question. But, my dear fellow, you have not proved to me yet that Lady Barmouth has a brother."
"Now you are puzzling me," Jack murmured.
"Not at all. On the night I speak of, Lady Barmouth had to act on the spur of the moment. It was necessary to gag a bit to play for an opening. You are taking too much for granted. If Lady Barmouth has a brother, you will probably find that he has nothing to do with this matter. In any case, why worry about him to-night? We seem to have a big adventure before us so far as I can gather from what you have just told me. And if you are still in doubt, it will be quite an easy matter to see Lady Barmouth in the morning, and ascertain from her whether or not our proposed line of action is likely to do any harm. I don't suppose that Lady Barmouth knows or cares anything for Redgrave, who appears to be a kind of sottish tool of Anstruther's."
"Quite right," Jack agreed. "And now, come along and let us set the ball rolling again. I think that I have told you everything. And now we will go off without delay, and see Seymour--the man I told you about, who was with me last night."
Rigby assented to the suggestion eagerly enough, and together they set out in the direction of Seymour's rooms. There was not much chance of the latter being out, seeing that he had his own cogent reasons for not facing the daylight, and surely enough it turned out as Masefield had expected.
Seymour was dawdling over his tea with a cigarette and a French novel, a bored expression on his face. That face, however, became eager and animated as Jack came in and introduced Rigby to his host.
"Things are beginning to move rapidly then," Seymour exclaimed. "Your face speaks of action, Mr. Masefield. Is it about Carrington? You have discovered something fresh."
"I think I have discovered pretty well everything," Jack replied. "I have managed to force that fellow's hand, just as Rigby suggested I should. He has consulted Anstruther, as we knew he would; and a pretty scheme for gaining time they evolved between them. But perhaps I had better tell you everything."
Seymour pitched his French novel aside, and his intelligent face beamed with animation. The story was told at length, and Seymour warmly congratulated the speaker upon his astuteness and intelligence.
"I quite agree with you," Seymour said. "If Carrington's good name is to be saved at all, that bogus burglary must take place to-night."
"By the way!" Jack exclaimed. "There is one thing I quite forgot to tell you--that is the little adventure I had last night at the Great Metropolitan Hotel. I found an invalid gentleman there--or, at least, he found me--who seems to know all about Anstruther and his movements. He knows you, too; indeed, he seemed to be overjoyed that you are in England. He had some hesitation in mentioning his own name, but he said that if I gave you a certain ring which is now in my possession, you would understand everything."
Jack laid the ring upon the table, and Seymour pounced upon it like a hawk would pounce upon a mouse. A grim smile played about the corners of his mouth, but, self-controlled as he was, he could not altogether hide his feelings.
"Tell me all that happened with my friend last night," he asked. "It has an important bearing on this case."
Jack proceeded to explain, Seymour listening in an attitude of rigid attention.
"This is the best news I have heard for some time," he said. "You can make your mind quite easy on one thing--Anstruther has nearly shot his bolt. After to-morrow I will get you to arrange a meeting between myself and my old friend at the Great Metropolitan Hotel. Meanwhile, there is much to be done. It is quite certain that great things are going to happen at the City and Provincial Bank to-night. I think we shall have a pleasant little surprise for Anstruther and Co."
Seymour rose, and took a roll of tissue paper from a small safe in the corner of the room.
"These are the plans of the City and Provincial Bank," he explained--"the plans that came so luckily into our hands last night. I have studied them very carefully. As a matter of fact, I did not come straight home last night, but passed the hours till nearly daylight prowling about the bank. Without the plans, my scheme would be quite futile; but I think now that I have the whole thing very prettily mapped out. Just come and look at this with me. It is really very simple."
As Seymour had said, the plan was simplicity itself. It not only gave a very intelligent idea of the situation of the vaults and strong rooms, but also the back premises and the lanes behind were clearly marked.
"Now I want you to follow this very carefully," Seymour went on. "We can ignore the front of the building altogether, because that faces on Gresham Street. Here the police pass the same premises every three minutes, so that nobody could force an entrance that way, not even the would-be burglars with their keys. But if you look at the rear of the place, you will see that there is a small alley leading out of Farringdon Lane, and this alley ends by a kind of back entry into the bank which is used by the caretaker. I have ascertained that there are two night watchmen, so that there is not much danger of trouble. By the side of this door is a small window, the latch of which I have ascertained to be defective.
"I suppose no one has ever troubled to see to this, for the simple reason that admission to the bank premises by no means implies getting to that part of the building which is devoted to business purposes. Not that we particularly want to penetrate very far, because it is our scheme to watch what is going on, so that we may be able to confront the scoundrels when the proper time comes. A careful examination of these plans shows me that we shall be able to get as far as the bank proper, which means the counting house, and from thence down the steps to the vaults where the strong rooms are situated."
"Have you got keys of all these?" Jack asked.
"There will be no necessity for us to provide keys," Seymour chuckled. "You see, Anstruther and Co. will be bound to enter the bank from the back premises. By learning this plan off by heart, we come to know exactly which way they will get to the vaults. Of course, they will come provided with keys--Carrington will see to that. All we have to do is to hide under a counter or something of that sort, and wait till our friends come along. Naturally, they will not dream that any one is on the premises besides themselves. As to the rest, you must leave that to me and fortune. You had better stay here and dine, and we can set out for the City about eleven o'clock."
It seemed to both Rigby and Masefield that it would be impossible to improve upon this plan. They dined comfortably and discreetly, and it was somewhere about half-past eleven when they turned their faces in the direction of the City. No one appeared to notice them, for they walked rapidly along, with the air of men who had business before them, and the police appeared to be few and far between. They came at length to the little alley at the rear of the bank, and here it behoved them to be cautious. They waited till the beat of the policeman's feet died away down the lane, and then they darted down the dark entry. Seymour produced a tiny electric torch from his pocket.
"There is the window," he whispered. "I am going to get on your shoulders, Mr. Rigby. Once I am through, I can pull you others up. There is no sort of danger."
"Oh, but there is," Jack protested. "You have utterly forgotten one thing--did you not tell me there were two night watchmen on the premises?"
Seymour chuckled, and was understood to say that they would find Anstruther had removed that difficulty for them. Seymour seemed so sure of his ground that Jack waived his protest. A minute later Seymour was through the window, and the others followed swiftly. Rather recklessly, or so it seemed to Jack, Seymour waved his electric torch so as to form a line of light in front. He smiled grimly as he pointed to two unconscious figures reclining back as if hopelessly drunk in a pair of deep armchairs. They came so suddenly upon the unfortunate victims that Jack fairly started. But so far as Seymour was concerned, he had appeared to have expected something of the kind. He again chuckled hoarsely.
"What did I tell you?" he asked. "Did I not say that Anstruther and Co. would very kindly get the caretakers out of the way for us? You see the caretakers would have been just as much of a nuisance to them as they are to us. They have been carefully hocussed, and not until an alarm is given in the morning will they be in a position to say anything."
The last danger being apparently removed, the trio proceeded to make their way to the bank premises proper, and there made themselves as comfortable as possible under one of the counters in the counting house. It was very quiet there, so quiet that they could hear the tramping footsteps of the police outside, and the singing of some belated reveler. They lay there till they heard the great clock of St. Paul's strike the hour of one. There was a sound then of heavy footsteps tramping along the corridor, and presently a great blaze of light filled the counting house. It was perfectly safe, for the heavy iron shutters excluded every ray from the outside. Seymour rose cautiously, then ducked his head again.
"Just look," he whispered. "Make sure who it is."
Rigby raised his head cautiously, too. The light fell full upon the face of the intruder--the white, stern face of Anstruther.
"Now for it," Seymour whispered; "the play is about to begin."
So far as Anstruther was concerned, he might have been going about his usual business. He evidently had no fear on the score of interruption, and, indeed, there was little cause, seeing that the bank was so substantially built, and that from top to bottom the windows were protected with iron shutters.
"There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of," he said. "Good gracious, man, have you no pluck at all? I declare when I look at you that I could kick you as one does a cowardly cur."
But Carrington was impervious to insult. His face was ghastly, and the strong glare of the electric lights showed the beads of moisture upon his forehead.
"It is all very well for you," he growled. "The greater the danger the better you seem to like it."
"There isn't any danger," Anstruther protested. "Didn't you tell me that the police had no special orders as far as the bank was concerned? And everybody knows you have two night watchmen. Besides--oh, I have no patience with you!"
Anstruther turned away from the other, and began to fumble with the lock of a small black bag which he carried in his hand. He signified to Carrington that the latter should lead the way to the vaults below. Carrington produced a bunch of keys from his pocket. Anstruther sneered openly.
"Oh, that's it," he said. "Going to make it all smooth for us, are you? Of all the fools I ever came across! Why not go outside and tell everybody what we are going to do? Those are all patent shove locks, which the most expert thief could never pick, and you are going to tell the police later on that they have been opened with an ordinary key. Don't forget that you have got to face the police later on, and endure a cross-examination that will test your nerve to the uttermost. We are going to blow those locks up, and these are dynamite cartridges to do it."
Carrington's face was almost comic in its dismay. His ghastly, sweat-bedabbled face fairly quivered. But he made no further protest; he bent before the sway of Anstruther's master mind.
"I don't wish to interfere with you," he stammered. "But the infernal noise which is likely to----"
Anstruther kicked his companion aside.
"We either do it or we don't do it," he said. "It doesn't matter a rap one way or the other to me. Now which is it to be?"
Carrington hesitated no longer. He simply submitted himself entirely to the hands of his companion. In a dazed, fascinated kind of way he watched Anstruther insinuate a dynamite cartridge of minute proportions into the lock of the door. Then Anstruther drew Carrington back as far as possible, and the tiny fuse began to work. There was just a tiny spurt of blue flame, followed by a muffled shock, and the door fell slowly back.
"There," Anstruther cried triumphantly. "What do you think of that? Do you suppose that noise was heard outside? Now come on; let us serve them all alike."
The sound of their footsteps came to the ears of those watching in the counting house, and at frequent intervals the sullen explosions could be heard. Seymour rose to his feet, and whispered to his companions to follow. They crept cautiously along the flagged stairway until they reached the vault in which the two strong rooms were situated. A couple of electric lights gave sufficient illumination for the purpose of the amateur burglars, who were now busily engaged on the locks of the strong room. This was altogether a different business to blowing in the lock of an ordinary door, for the entrance to the strong room was secured with six bolts, all of which would have to be destroyed.
It was possible to find a secure hiding-place in the thick darkness outside the radius of the two electric lights. It was an interesting moment, and even Seymour was conscious of a sensation of excitement.
"Stand back," Anstruther said. "Everything is ready. You had better lie down on your face, as I am using six charges now instead of one. If they all go off together the thing will be accomplished to our mutual satisfaction."
The hint was not lost upon the listeners. There was a moment of intense excitement, and then came a dull, heavy roar, that seemed to shake the building almost to its foundations. Almost before the reverberations had died away, the huge door of the strong room swayed with a zigzag motion, and came smashing on the floor.
"There," Anstruther cried triumphantly. "What do you think of that, my friend? I flatter myself that that is a real workmanlike job. All you have to do now is to keep a stiff upper lip, and give the police all the information they require. Anything of value inside?"
"Not very much, I am afraid," Carrington responded. "A fair amount of old family plate, and perhaps twenty or thirty thousand pounds' worth of securities. I suppose we had better leave all that there; look better, don't you think?"
"Leave your head there," Anstruther sneered. "Now I put it to you, as a man supposed to be possessed of sense--would any thief leave a single item of value behind?"
Anstruther asked the question with a contemptuous curl of his lip. He was wiping his hands now on a piece of greasy cotton waste in which the dynamite cartridges had been wrapped to prevent contact.
"This is going to be a unique sort of burglary," he continued. "Trot out what you've got in the way of plate, and I'll take my pick of it as a kind of fee in reward for my night's service. If there is one soft place in my heart, it is for antique silver. Take your time--we are not in the least likely to be interrupted."
With his coat off and his shirt sleeves turned up, Carrington set to work in earnest. Once he had plunged headlong into the business, he seemed to have lost all his nervousness and hesitation. One after the other the great wooden cases were turned out and examined by Anstruther as eagerly as a schoolboy pores over something new in the way of a bird's nest. Presently he held aloft a magnificent specimen of a silver dish. It was perfectly plain: fine old hammered silver, bearing a quaint design around the edge.
"Benvenuto Cellini for a million," he cried. "Dish and ewer, together with a set of the finest posset cups I've ever seen. How much over ten thousand pounds would this fetch at Christie's? Well, I'm very sorry for the late owner, but exceedingly pleased so far as I am concerned. I'll take this for my fee, Carrington."
The two dived into the strong room again, where they appeared to be overhauling other boxes of treasure. The gleams of the electric light fell upon the service of plate which Anstruther had so greatly admired. By its side, in strange contrast, laid a piece of cotton waste with which Anstruther had wiped his hands a minute or two before. Without a word of warning to his companions, Seymour darted across the floor of the vault; and, seizing the cotton waste, proceeded to rub it vigorously over the surface of the service of plate which Anstruther had marked down for his own.
His conduct was so unexpected and so peculiar, that Jack and Rigby could only look at one another in astonishment. They did not know in the least what to make of this extraordinary manœuvre on the part of their colleague. But there was evidently much method in his madness; he was not in the least likely to run the risk of detection to gratify an apparently meaningless whim. He was back again an instant later, and Jack could hear him chuckling to himself as if he had accomplished something quite out of the common. He seemed to feel that some explanation was necessary.
"I dare say you thought that peculiar," he said; "but you will understand all in good time. I didn't go out of my way to spoil everything for the mere sake of playing amateur housemaid."
Apparently the task which Anstruther and Carrington had set themselves was finished by this time, for they came out of the strong room empty handed. All the same, their figures appeared to be pretty bulky, and doubtless their pockets were well filled with illicit gain.
"But you don't mean to carry that stuff home," Carrington protested. "Well known as you are, it would be an act of criminal folly to carry that plate through the streets at this time of the morning. As to myself----"
"But have you no private safe of your own?" Anstruther asked. "The same remark you made to me just now applies to you. Is there anything more to wait for?"
Carrington disappeared within the strong room again for a last look round, followed by Anstruther. They had no sooner disappeared than Seymour was on his feet again, making hurriedly for the stairway leading to the counting house. He had not been gone many seconds before there came stumbling noisily down the stairs the form of one of the night watchmen, rubbing his eyes drowsily, and asking what was going on. It was quite evident to Rigby and Jack that Seymour had deliberately aroused the sleeping man for some subtle purpose of his own. The man cried out again to know what all this meant, and Carrington and Anstruther came darting from the strong room.
"By heaven! He has come to his senses," Anstruther muttered. "I thought that dose was quite strong enough. I am very sorry, but seeing that he has learned so much----"
There was murder in Anstruther's eyes, and Carrington saw it. Still dazed and stupid from the result of the drug, the watchman was gazing about him like a man just emerging from a heavy bout of intoxication. It was evident that he did not recognize his employer, though senses and reason were fast coming back to him. As he staggered towards the strong room door a murderous look crept into Anstruther's eyes again, and something bright gleamed in his hand. Carrington hastened forward.
"No, no," he cried hoarsely. "I will have none of that, I have gone too far already. I could bear with imprisonment, but the mere thought of a noose round my neck----"
He almost staggered up to the dazed watchman, and shook him violently. The latter seemed to comprehend at length.
"Wake up, Gregory," Carrington stammered. "There has been a burglary here. I had occasion to come down to the bank for something, and found that the premises had been broken into. Go for the police."
Anstruther studied the watchman's features with broody, malignant eyes. His quick brain was working rapidly. It was quite evident that the watchman had not yet fully grasped the situation. It would be some time before he could find a policeman and give him a fairly coherent account of what had happened.
"Not a moment to be lost," he cried. "Let us go up-stairs at once to your room and lock all this stuff up in your private safe. No one will think of looking for it there. Now don't say you haven't got the key with you."
Carrington nodded breathlessly, and immediately Anstruther began to pack up the Cellini service of plate which had so greatly fascinated him.
"Come on at once," he said. "Let us get this stuff in hiding, and then we can face the police."
They had only to don their coats again and make their way as soon as possible to Carrington's private room. As they passed up the stairs Seymour signed to his companions to follow.
They were only just in time, for as they emerged into the alley the watchman was returning with the constable. They squeezed close against the wall, securing the friendly cover of the darkness, and a moment later they were in Gresham Street.
"What is to be done next?" Rigby said.
"I think that is pretty obvious," Seymour chuckled. "So far as I can see this is a nice little job for Inspector Bates."