CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HATHERCLEUGH BUTLER
The three of us went away from the bank manager's house struggling withthe various moods peculiar to our individual characters--Mr.Portlethorpe, being naturally a nervous man, given to despondency, wasgreatly upset, and manifested his emotions in sundry ejaculations of adark nature; I, being young, was full of amazement at the news just givenus and of the excitement of hunting down the man we knew as Sir GilbertCarstairs. But I am not sure that Mr. Lindsey struggled much withanything--he was cool and phlegmatic as usual, and immediately began tothink of practical measures.
"Look here, Portlethorpe," he said, as soon as we were in the motor carwhich we had chartered from Newcastle station, "we've got to get going inthis matter at once--straight away! We must be in Edinburgh as early aspossible in the morning. Be guided by me--come straight back to Berwick,stop the night with me at my house, and we'll be on our way to Edinburghby the very first train--we can get there early, by the time the banksare open. There's another reason why I want you to come--I've somedocuments that I wish you to see--documents that may have a veryimportant bearing on this affair. There's one in my pocket-book now, andyou'll be astonished when you hear how it came into my possession. Butit's not one-half so astonishing as another that I've got at my house."
I remembered then that we had been so busily engaged since our returnfrom the North that morning that we had had no time to go into thematter of the letter which Mr. Gavin Smeaton had entrusted to Mr.Lindsey--here, again, was going to be more work of the ferreting-outsort. But Mr. Portlethorpe, it was clear, had no taste for mysteries,and no great desire to forsake his own bed, even for Mr. Lindsey'shospitality, and it needed insistence before he consented to go back toBerwick with us. Go back, however, he did; and before midnight we werein our own town again, and passing the deserted streets towards Mr.Lindsey's home, I going with the others because Mr. Lindsey insistedthat it was now too late for me to go home, and I should be nearer thestation if I slept at his place. And just before we got to the house,which was a quiet villa standing in its own grounds, a little north ofthe top end of the town, a man who was sauntering ahead of us, suddenlyturned and came up to Mr. Lindsey, and in the light of a street lamp Irecognized in him the Hathercleugh butler.
Mr. Lindsey recognized the man, too--so also did Mr. Portlethorpe; andthey both came to a dead halt, staring. And both rapped out the sameinquiry, in identical words:
"Some news?"
I looked as eagerly at the butler as they did. He had been sour enoughand pompous enough in his manner and attitude to me that night of my callon his master, and it surprised me now to see how polite and suaveand--in a fashion--insinuating he was in his behaviour to the twosolicitors. He was a big, fleshy, strongly-built fellow, with a ratherflabby, deeply-lined face and a pallid complexion, rendered all the palerby his black overcoat and top hat; and as he stood there, rubbing hishands, glancing from Mr. Lindsey to Mr. Portlethorpe, and speaking insoft, oily, suggestive accents, I felt that I disliked him even more thanwhen he had addressed me in such supercilious accents at the doors ofHathercleugh.
"Well--er--not precisely news, gentlemen," he replied. "The fact is, Iwanted to see you privately, Mr. Lindsey, sir--but, of course, I've noobjections to speaking before Mr. Portlethorpe, as he's Sir Gilbert'ssolicitor. Perhaps I can come in with you, Mr. Lindsey?--the truth is,I've been waiting about, sir--they said you'd gone to Newcastle, andmight be coming back by this last train. And--it's--possibly--ofimportance."
"Come in," said Mr. Lindsey. He let us all into his house with hislatch-key, and led us to his study, where he closed the door. "Now," hewent on, turning to the butler. "What is it? You can speak freely--we areall three--Mr. Portlethorpe, Mr. Moneylaws, and myself--pretty wellacquainted with all that is going on, by this time. And--I'm perhaps notfar wrong when I suggest that you know something?"
The butler, who had taken the chair which Mr. Lindsey had pointed out,rubbed his hands, and looked at us with an undeniable expression ofcunning and slyness.
"Well, sir!" he said in a low, suggesting tone of voice. "A man in myposition naturally gets to know things--whether he wants to or not,sometimes. I have had ideas, gentlemen, for some time."
"That something was wrong?" asked Mr. Portlethorpe.
"Approaching to something of that nature, sir," replied the butler. "Ofcourse, you will bear in mind that I am, as it were, a stranger--I haveonly been in Sir Gilbert's Carstairs' employ nine months. But--I haveeyes. And ears. And the long and short of it is, gentlemen, I believe SirGilbert--and Lady Carstairs--have gone!"
"Absolutely gone?" exclaimed Mr. Portlethorpe. "Good gracious,Hollins!--you don't mean that!"
"I shall be much surprised if it is not found to be the case, sir,"answered Hollins, whose name I now heard for the first time."And--incidentally, as it were--I may mention that I think it will bediscovered that a good deal has gone with them!"
"What--property?" demanded Mr. Portlethorpe. "Impossible!--they couldn'tcarry property away--going as they seem to have done--or are said tohave done!"
Hollins coughed behind one of his big, fat hands, and glanced knowinglyat Mr. Lindsey, who was listening silently but with deep attention.
"I'm not so sure about that, sir," he said. "You're aware that there werecertain small matters at Hathercleugh of what we may term the heirloomnature, though whether they were heirlooms or not I can't say--theminiature of himself set in diamonds, given by George the Third to thesecond baronet; the necklace, also diamonds, which belonged to a Queen ofSpain; the small picture, priceless, given to the fifth baronet by a Czarof Russia; and similar things, Mr. Portlethorpe. And, gentlemen, thefamily jewels!--all of which had been reset. They've got all those!"
"You mean to say--of your own knowledge--they're not at Hathercleugh?"suddenly inquired Mr. Lindsey.
"I mean to say they positively are not, sir," replied the butler. "Theywere kept in a certain safe in a small room used by Lady Carstairs as herboudoir. Her ladyship left very hastily and secretly yesterday, as Iunderstand the police have told you, and, in her haste, she forgot tolock up that safe--which she had no doubt unlocked before her departure.That safe, sir, is empty--of those things, at any rate."
"God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Portlethorpe, greatly agitated. "Thisis really terrible!"
"Could she carry those things--all of them--on her bicycle--by which Ihear she left?" asked Mr. Lindsey.
"Easily, sir," replied Hollins. "She had a small luggage-carrier on herbicycle--it would hold all those things. They were not bulky, of course."
"You've no idea where she went on that bicycle?" inquired Mr. Lindsey.
Hollins smiled cunningly, and drew his chair a little nearer to us.
"I hadn't--when I went to Mr. Murray, at the police-station, thismorning," he answered. "But--I've an idea, now. That's precisely why Icame in to see you, Mr. Lindsey."
He put his hand inside his overcoat and produced a pocket-book, fromwhich he presently drew out a scrap of paper.
"After I'd seen Mr. Murray this morning," he continued, "I went back toHathercleugh, and took it upon myself to have a look round. I didn't findanything of a remarkably suspicious nature until this afternoon, prettylate, when I made the discovery about the safe in the boudoir--that allthe articles I'd mentioned had disappeared. Then I began to examine awaste-paper basket in the boudoir--I'd personally seen Lady Carstairstear up some letters which she received yesterday morning by the firstpost, and throw the scraps into that basket, which hadn't been emptiedsince. And I found this, gentlemen--and you can, perhaps, draw someconclusion from it--I've had no difficulty in drawing one myself."
He laid on the table a torn scrap of paper, over which all three of us atonce bent. There was no more on it than the terminations of lines--butthe wording was certainly suggestive:--
".... at once, quietly.... best time would be before lunch.... at Kelso.... usual place in Glasgow."
Mr. Portlethorpe started at sight o
f the handwriting.
"That's Sir Gilbert's!" he exclaimed. "No doubt of that. What are we tounderstand by it, Lindsey?"
"What do you make of this?" asked Mr. Lindsey, turning to Hollins. "Yousay you've drawn a deduction?"
"I make this out, sir," answered the butler, quietly. "Yesterday morningthere were only four letters for Lady Carstairs. Two were fromLondon--in the handwriting of ladies. One was a tradesman's letter--fromNewcastle. The fourth was in a registered envelope--and the address wastypewritten--and the post-mark Edinburgh. I'm convinced, Mr. Lindsey,that the registered one contained--that! A letter, you understand, fromSir Gilbert--I found other scraps of it, but so small that it'simpossible to piece them together, though I have them here. And Iconclude that he gave Lady Carstairs orders to cycle to Kelso--an easyride for her,--and to take the train to Glasgow, where he'd meet her.Glasgow, sir, is a highly convenient city, I believe, for people whowish to disappear. And--I should suggest that Glasgow should becommunicated with."
"Have you ever known Sir Gilbert Carstairs visit Glasgow recently?" askedMr. Lindsey, who had listened attentively to all this.
"He was there three weeks ago," replied Hollins.
"And--Edinburgh?" suggested Mr. Lindsey.
"He went regularly to Edinburgh--at one time--twice a week," said thebutler. And then, Mr. Lindsey not making any further remark, he glancedat him and at Mr. Portlethorpe. "Of course, gentlemen," he continued,"this is all between ourselves. I feel it my duty, you know."
Mr. Lindsey answered that we all understood the situation, and presentlyhe let the man out, after a whispered sentence or two between them in thehall. Then he came back to us, and without a word as to what had justtranspired, drew the Smeaton letter from his pocket.