Read £19,000 Page 27


  CHAPTER XXVI

  GERALD WALKS INTO THE TRAP

  Gerald was enveloped in an atmosphere of tobacco smoke which nearlychoked his landlady when she entered the room.

  A telegram had come for him, and it being, as she explained, "thatdratted gal's night out," she had ascended the stairs with the messageherself.

  Gerald was thick in smoke, because he had an idea that his brain likedit; he thought better with a pipe in his mouth.

  And he was as full of thought just then as a pomegranate is of pips.

  He took the telegram, opened it, and raised his eyebrows at thecontents.

  "What's the meaning of it?" he muttered. "What can have happened sincethe morning? What more can he know?"

  He was in no way suspicious that it was part of a trap.

  He did not credit Loide with any revengeful feeling, because he had beendealt with leniently--let fly when his wings should have been clipped.

  Was it possible that there was such a thing as gratitude in that toughold legal breast? He half smiled as he wholly doubted it.

  And yet--well, he would go down and see what it was. Wimbledon was notfar--he could soon get there and back.

  He turned down his lamp, and, putting on his coat and hat, went out,took train to, and reached Wimbledon.

  He had some difficulty in finding his way through the ill-lit streets,but at last he reached The Elms.

  Through the slats of the Venetian blinds he saw the house well lighted.There was nothing dark or mysterious about it.

  A faint suspicion which had been born en route subsided.

  Clever Loide had foreseen and disarmed such suspicion by means of hispound of candles, lighted and distributed on the floors of the frontrooms.

  Gerald opened the gate and walked up the steps to the door. He knocked.

  Presently he heard footsteps, and then a voice--a voice he recognized asthe lawyer's--saying:

  "That is all right, Mary; don't bother to open the door. I will. I knowwho it is--a gentleman I am expecting. Just put some coals on thedining-room fire, will you?"

  Then there was a rattling of the lock, and the hall door swung open. Thelawyer stood there.

  "Come in," he said. "Excuse the condition of the hall; the white washersare at work."

  Gerald entered, and the lawyer closed the door behind him.

  "Straight on," he said. "My room is at the end of the passage, the doorfacing you."

  Gerald walked on. Then suddenly the floor gave way beneath him.

  With a cry he stretched out his hands, and gripped the edge of what heperceived to be a trap, saving himself from falling thereby. The lawyersaw this, and endeavored with his foot on Gerald's shoulder to thrusthim down.

  In turn Gerald released one hand, and made a grab at the lawyer's leg.Just in time Loide withdrew his limb, and Gerald replaced his hand onthe edge of the opening, striving to draw himself up.

  There was only one thing to be done, and the lawyer did it. Hedeliberately placed his feet, one on the fingers of each of the handsgripping the wood.

  With a cry of pain Gerald released his hold, and fell to the feather bedbelow.

  The lawyer knelt on the edge of the hole, and, throwing the rays of hislantern down, inquired:

  "All right? You aren't hurt, are you?"

  "What's the meaning of this devil's trick? Is this the gratitude youspoke of?"

  "A little bit of it--just a little bit of it. I'm sorry; really, trulysorry to put you in such a position, but business, you know, businessmust be attended to."

  "I've walked into your trap."

  "Just nicely and comfortably."

  "Like a fool."

  "No, no, don't say that," said the lawyer soothingly. "You couldn'tpossibly foresee."

  "What does it mean? What's your object? How long do you propose to keepme here?"

  "Depends entirely on yourself."

  "How?"

  "Let me handle those nineteen thousand pound notes, and you shall haveyour liberty within twenty four hours."

  "And if I don't do that?"

  The grim smile on the lawyer's face seemed to answer him.

  "Supposing I cannot?"

  Once more the lawyer smiled. He stroked his chin and said quietly:

  "You are not a fool. I don't think I am. Let's play this game, then,like men. You are here in my power. You've got to stop here till Ihandle those notes. I can't afford to let that time be a long one, so Imust hurry things on a bit."

  "You mean to torture me?"

  "That's as you may choose to put it. You must remember that the torturewill cease the moment you care to let it. You've got the check string inyour hand."

  "What do you intend doing?"

  "Nothing, I hope, because I think you will see the game is mine, andhand over the pool."

  "You think I have the notes on me?"

  "No, I don't, or I should have adopted other means--rendered youunconscious while I despoiled you of them, and then perhaps popped youwhere you are for some hours while I cashed the notes and cleared out."

  "What is it you want me to do, then?"

  "Well, you made me sit down and write a note once, didn't you? I have astylographic pen here, paper, and an envelope."

  "Yes."

  "I want you to write a letter, authorizing the giving up to the bearerof it the packet containing the notes."

  "A letter--to whom?"

  The lawyer laughed as he answered:

  "To the custodian of them, of course."

  "And if I can't--if I don't do that?"

  "Then, my friend, you'll gain knowledge. You will know what it is to behungry and thirsty. I don't know that the information will be of muchservice to you in the police force, but for all it's worth, it will beyours."

  "You will starve me!"

  "I shall keep you without bite or sup till you give me what I want, ifit's for a day or a week, or--or as long as you can live. If you areobstinate enough, if ultimately your skeleton is found here--for I maytell you that rats abound in the cellar, and they are reputed to beexcellent bone pickers--the fault will be yours, wholly yours, notmine."

  There was silence for a few moments.

  Gerald was in a cold sweat of fear and horror. He knew the lawyer wellenough to know that an appeal to his mercy would be wasted.

  If he told the truth--that he did not know where the notes were--hewould not be believed. If he did convince the lawyer, then what mighthappen?

  At the fellow's mercy he might be killed, just as the man on the boathad been. Human life, he knew, was no sacred thing to the man who heldhim prisoner.

  To lie or to tell the truth--which should he do?

  "How do you shape?" presently inquired the lawyer. "Will you makeyourself as comfortable on those beds as you can for the night withoutbedclothes, and with rodent company, or will you give me the letter Iask for now?"

  "I can't give it."

  "Very well," said the lawyer, pretending to smile genially, although hewas sick at heart at the answer. "Perhaps a night's reflection will makeyou change your mind;" he drew up the flap as he spoke.

  "Good-night."

  "God! Are you going to leave me here in the dark?"

  "I am afraid so. I am sleeping in the house, and if the loneliness--butyou will have plenty of company--if you should change your mind in thenight, call out. I shall hear you, and bring a light."

  "If I scream for help the neighbors----"

  "Will not hear you. Grip that fact, and it will be a breath saver. Thishouse stands off the road in its own grounds. There is not a livingbeing within earshot."

  "Leave me a light, man--it's inhuman."

  "I am sorry you think that. However, it's your own fault, you know. Giveme the letter I want, and I'll lower this lamp to you, and before thistime to-morrow night you shall be as free as air."

  He waited a minute, holding the flap in his hand. No answer.

  "I am sorry you don't see your way to it. You don't mind my shuttingthis flap,
do you? You'll get plenty of ventilation from the barredwindow. By the by, don't waste strength trying the bars. I tried thembefore you dropped down, and you can take my word that they are firmenough; while as to the door, it's as solid a piece of oak as was evercarpentered. Accept my assurance that you are as secure as it ispossible to make you, will you? Good-night."

  He put one of the pieces of lath across a corner of the opening as hespoke, and rested the flap on that.

  The square border of light, which those eager eyes in the cellar lookedup to, the light of the lamp through the cracks, gradually grew fainterand fainter--the lantern had been lifted.

  The light faded, then all was darkness. The prisoner was alone.