with a slight start recognised me for the first time.
"I believe, Mr Markwick, we have the pleasure of mutual acquaintance,"I said, bowing.
He looked at me in silence for a few seconds, then, with an expressionof perplexity, replied:
"You really have the advantage of me, sir. I cannot recall where wehave met before."
I was certainly not prepared for this disclaimer, but his eyes wereunwavering, and there was no sign of confusion. His sinister face was aperfect blank.
"Come," I said, rather superciliously, "you surely remember our meetingone night at Richmond, our strange journey together and its tragicresult!"
"Strange journey--tragic result!" he repeated slowly, with well-feignedignorance. "I confess I have no knowledge of what you mean."
"Complete loss of memory is advantageous sometimes," I remarked dryly."But if you deny that you did not meet me one night in the TerraceGardens at Richmond, that you did not induce me to go to a certain houseto have an interview with the woman I loved, and that while in thathouse an event occurred which--"
"How many whiskies have you had this morning?" he asked with a laugh.His impassibility was astounding.
"I tell you if you deny these facts you lie!" I cried angrily.
"I certainly do deny them," he answered firmly. "And what is more, Ihave never set eyes upon you before today."
"Then you will deny that Lady Fyneshade had a visitor who met herclandestinely--in the shrubbery at Blatherwycke the other night--andthat that visitor was yourself? You will deny that you have acted asthe Countess's inquiry agent; that you followed my friend, CaptainBethune, to the Continent, dogged his footsteps through France, Germanyand Italy, and made such arrangements that he could be arrested at anymoment--"
"What for?" cried Bethune, amazed. "What crime is alleged against me?"
There was silence. Markwick flashed a rapid glance at me.
"None," I said at last I saw that this man Markwick was too wary to showhis hand.
"Then if what you say is true, why should this man act as spy upon me?"demanded Jack fiercely.
"Ask him," I replied. "From his own lips I heard him report to hisemployer, Lady Fyneshade, the result of his investigations."
"Mabel! then she, too, is my enemy," he exclaimed furiously. "She hasendeavoured all along to part me from Dora, but she shall not--by God!she shan't."
"And what proof have you?" asked Markwick, addressing me. "What proofhave you, pray, that I had been employed--as you so delicately put it--by the Countess?"
"Your own words. I overheard you. It was highly interesting, I assureyou," I answered, smiling as I watched the effect of my words.
Suddenly Jack, pale with anger, started with a sudden impulse towardshim, crying:
"You have spied upon me and endeavoured unsuccessfully to give me intothe hands of the police. Well, it is a fight between us. Were it notfor the fact I am a guest in a friend's house I would horsewhip you as acad and a coward. As it is, you shall go free. I shall, however, bearmed against you; these revelations by my friend Ridgeway have provedwhat I long ago suspected, and--"
"This friend of yours, who desires to claim acquaintance with me, lies!"he said with calm indifference.
"Go! Tell the Countess, whose lover you may be for aught I know, thatthe man she suspects is innocent, and that if necessary he will proveit," Bethune answered bitterly.
"I knew you were innocent, Jack!" I cried. "Prove it, old fellow!Don't delay a moment."
He turned quickly, and asked me frigidly: "Then you also suspect me--ofwhat?"
I saw that my involuntary exclamations had again betrayed my suspicions.Ere I could reply, Markwick, who had flung himself into an arm-chairand was sitting in an indolent attitude with legs outstretched, hadcried:
"Innocent--bah!"
"What crime then do you allege?" Jack demanded. His face blanched ashe strode up to his strange visitor with clenched fists.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
ATTACK AND DEFENCE.
Springing to his feet and tearing open his coat, Markwick, the mandesignated by one of Bethune's fair correspondents as "that vile,despicable coward," drew from his breast-pocket a folded newspaper,saying:
"This newspaper, the Daily News of this morning, will perhaps refreshyour memory. Listen while I read. I promise not to bore you," andopening the paper quickly a cynical smile played about his thin lips ashe read as follows:--
"`Yesterday, at Bow Street Police Court, Mr J. Arthur Price,barrister, made an extraordinary application to the magistrate. Hestated that three years ago Sir Henry Sternroyd, Knight, the well-knownWigan ironfounder, died at Cannes, leaving his entire fortune, amountingto about three millions, to his son Gilbert. Two years ago GilbertSternroyd, who had been educated at Bonn, received the property, andtook up his residence in London. He was a member of several good clubs,and soon became well-known and popular with a rather smart set. OnMarch 12 last he went to the Empire Theatre alone, had supper with afriend at the New Lyric Club, and from there went to the Army and Navy.He left there about half-past twelve alone, and walked in the directionof his chambers. Since that hour nothing whatever has been seen orheard of him. On the following morning a check for a rather largeamount was presented for payment, but, as this check was drawn threedays before, it is not thought by the police to have any connection withhis mysterious disappearance. One fact, counsel pointed out, wasstrange, namely, that although the check was dated three days before,the check-book containing the counterfoil had not been discovered in hischambers, and it is therefore presumed that he had it upon him at thetime of his disappearance. The case, counsel continued, presented manyextraordinary and even sensational features, one of which was the factthat a will had been discovered, properly executed by the missing man'ssolicitors, by which the whole of his extensive fortune is bequeathed toa lady well-known in society, the much-admired wife of a peer. It isfeared that the young man has met with foul play, and it was counsel'sobject in making the application on behalf of the relatives to directpublic attention to the case, and express a hope that any personpossessed of information as to his whereabouts would not fail tocommunicate with the police. The magistrate observed that the Presswould no doubt take notice of counsel's application.'"
Markwick paused, his small eyes glistening with a revengeful fire as hegazed at Jack Bethune.
"Does not this statement bring back to your memory the incidents of thatnight?" he asked slowly, without taking his eyes off him.
With sinking heart I saw that my friend visibly trembled, and noticedthat he started as each mention of the name of the murdered man stabbedhis conscience. His face was bloodless; the dark rings around his eyesgave his ashen countenance an almost hideous appearance. The statementabout the will was a new and amazing phase of the mystery, for itpointed conclusively to the fact that the dead man had left his wealthto Mabel, a fact that accounted for the seemingly unreasonable interestwhich the Countess had taken in his disappearance.
"I--I really don't know why the report of the sudden disappearance of aman whom I knew but very slightly should be of paramount interest tome," Jack answered, but the haggard expression on his face told only tooplainly the effect caused by the mine his enemy had suddenly sprung uponhim.
"It may one day be of vital interest to you," Markwick said menacingly,as he carefully refolded the paper and placed it again in his pocket.
Jack gave vent to a dry, hollow laugh, saying: "It is certainly astrange affair altogether, but surely this is not news to you. I heardof Sternroyd's disappearance weeks ago."
"You were perhaps the first person aware of it--eh?" observed Markwickcaustically.
"By that remark you insinuate that I possess knowledge which I have notdisclosed," Jack answered brusquely. "Both the Countess and yourselfhave perfect liberty to form your own conclusions, and they would beamusing were it not for the gravity of the question involved, namely,whether or not Gilbert Sternroyd has met with foul play."
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"He has met with foul play," cried Markwick sternly. "And you aloneknow the truth."
This direct accusation startled me. I glanced at my friend. He wasstanding upright, rigid, silent, his terrified eyes gazing fixedly intospace.
But for a moment only. Suddenly, he again sprang towards his accuser,and facing him boldly, cried:
"You're endeavouring to fasten upon me the responsibility of youngSternroyd's disappearance! Well, do what you will. I do not fear you,"and a strange laugh escaped his lips. "Arrest me, put me in acriminal's dock, bring forward your array of counsel, your evidence, andthe results of your accursed espionage, then, when you have finished