Read Mr. Marx's Secret Page 28


  CHAPTER XXVII. LEONARD DE CARTIENNE.

  We all three stood and looked at one another for a moment, Milly Hartwith her finger still pointing to the vacant place where the photographhad been. Then Cecil broke into a short laugh.

  "We're looking very tragical about it," he said lightly. "Mysteriousjoint disappearance of Leonard de Cartienne and a photograph of Mr. Hart.Now, if it had been a photograph of a pretty girl instead of amiddle-aged man, we might have connected the two. Hallo!"

  He broke off in his speech and turned round. Standing in the doorway,looking at us, was Leonard de Cartienne, with a slight smile on his thinlips.

  "Behold the missing link--I mean man!" exclaimed Cecil. "Good oldLeonard! Do you know, you gave us quite a fright. We expected to find youhere and the room was empty. Are you better?"

  "Yes, thanks! I'm all right now," he answered. "I've been out in the yardand had a blow. What's Milly looking so scared about? And what was it Iheard you say about a photograph?"

  "Father's likeness has gone," she explained, turning round with tears inher eyes. "It was there on the mantelpiece this afternoon and now, whenwe came in to look at it, it has gone!"

  "I should think that, if it really has disappeared," de Cartienneremarked incredulously, "the servant must have moved it. Ask her."

  Miss Hart rang the bell and in the meantime we looked about the room. Itwas all in vain. We could find no trace of it, nor could the servant whoanswered the summons give us any information. She had seen it in itsusual place early in the morning when she had been dusting. Since thenshe had not entered the room.

  "Deuced queer thing!" declared Cecil, when at last we had relinquishedthe search. "Deuced queer!" he repeated meditatively, with his handsthrust deep down in his trousers' pockets and his eyes resting idly uponde Cartienne's face. "But we can't do anything more, that's certain. Wereally must be off, Milly. We've been here almost an hour already, andBrandy and Soda must be getting restless, and you must be famished, I'msure, Morton. Come along! Good-bye, Milly! Keep your spirits up, oldgirl! The governor'll be bound to turn up again in a day or two. Anddon't you worry about the photograph. It must be somewhere."

  "But it isn't!" she declared tearfully. "We've looked everywhere! Oh,what shall I do?"

  Cecil assumed a most lugubrious expression and looked downsympathetically into her tear-stained face. She certainly was uncommonlypretty.

  "You go on, you fellows," he said. "I'll be out in a minute. I'll drive,Leonard. Don't think you're quite up to it."

  De Cartienne nudged my arm and we went off together and made our way upthe street to the inn, under the covered archway of which the trap wasdrawn up. In a few minutes Cecil joined us.

  "Hope I haven't kept you waiting," he said, as he lighted a cigarette andclambered up to the box-seat. "No, you come in front, Morton. That'sright. Very odd about that photograph, isn't it? It's gone and nomistake. We've been having another look round."

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed de Cartienne impatiently. "What a fuss about atrifle! A girl has no memory at all! I expect she moved it herself. Betyou it turns up by the morning."

  "I think not," Cecil replied quietly, as he gathered up the reins. "Nowthen, hold on behind!"

  We rattled off down the street and out into the open country again at apace which precluded any conversation. The low hedges and stunted treesby the roadside seemed to fly past us, and a sudden turn, which almostjerked me from my seat, brought us in sight of a wide semi-circle oftwinkling lights, which seemed to stretch right across the horizon.

  "What are they?" I asked, pointing forward.

  "Those? Oh, fishing-smacks!" answered Cecil.

  "Is that the sea, then?" I asked eagerly.

  He burst out laughing.

  "Why, what else do you suppose it is?" he exclaimed. "Can't you hear it?"

  I bent my head and listened. The faint night breeze was just sufficientto carry to our ears the dull, monotonous roar of an incoming tide.

  "Not a very cheerful row, is it?" observed Cecil.

  "Cheerful! I call it the most infernally miserable sound I ever heard!"growled de Cartienne, from the back seat, "enough to give a fellow thehorrors any day!"

  "See that bright light close ahead?" said Cecil, pointing with his whip."That's Borden Tower, where we hang out, you know. We shall be there in aminute or two."

  "Perhaps!" growled de Cartienne from behind, making a nervous clutch atthe side of the trap, "Cis, my dear fellow, you're not driving afire-engine, and there's nothing to be gained by this confounded hurry.George! I was nearly out that time."

  We had turned round a sharp corner into a winding drive, devoid of trees,and planted only with stunted shrubs. On one side, between us and theshore, was a long, irregular plantation of small fir trees, through whichthe night wind was moaning with a sound not unlike the more distant roarof the sea. Directly in front loomed a high dark building, standing outwith almost startling abruptness against a void of sky and moor.

  "Here we are!" exclaimed Cecil, pulling up with a flourish before thefront entrance. "John, help down the poor, nervous invalid behind, andtake Brandy and Soda round to the stable at once. They're too hot tostand still in this damp air a second."

  We passed across a large but somewhat dreary hall into a warm,comfortable dining-room. A bright fire was blazing in the grate, and atable in the centre of the room was very tastefully laid for dinner.

  "Make yourself at home, Morton!" exclaimed Cecil, standing on thehearthrug and stretching out a numbed hand to the blaze. "Draw aneasy-chair up to the fire while James unpacks your traps and sees to yourroom. Leonard, ring the bell, there's a good fellow, and let them knowwe're ready for dinner."

  "Thanks; I think I'll go upstairs at once," I remarked.

  "All right! Here's James; he'll show you your room. One servant betweenthree of us now. Good old James! I say, Morton, no swallow-tails, youknow."

  I nodded and followed the man, who was waiting in the doorway, to myroom.

  After my bare-floored, low-ceilinged attic at the farm, the apartmentinto which I was ushered seemed a very temple of luxury. There was a softcarpet upon the floor, many easy chairs, an Oriental divan, mirrors, andsolid, handsomely carved furniture. Leading out of it on one side was abath-room and on the other a small, cosy sitting-room, or study.

  "Is there anything more I can do for you, sir?" inquired the man, afterhe had poured out my hot water and set out the contents of myportmanteau.

  I shook my head and dismissed him. After a very brief toilet I hasteneddownstairs.

  The dinner was remarkably good and I was very hungry; but I found time tonotice two things. The first was that Cecil drank a great deal more winethan at his age was good for him; and the second, that de Cartienne, whodrank very little himself, concealed that fact as far as he was able andpassed the bottle continually to Cecil. This did not much surprise me,for I had already formed my own opinion of de Cartienne.

  After dinner the man who waited upon us brought in some coffee andwithdrew. Cecil, whose cheeks were a little flushed, and whose eyes weresparkling with more than ordinary brightness, rose and stretched himself.

  "I say, Leonard," he exclaimed, "let's adjourn to your room and have ahand at cards! Shall we?"

  De Cartienne shrugged his shoulders, but did not offer to move.

  "I'm not particularly keen on cards to-night," he remarked, with a yawn."I believe, if you had your own way, you'd play from morning to night."

  "Oh, hang it all, there's nothing else to be done!" Cecil answered. "Ifwe stay down here we can't smoke, and we shall have old Grumps backbothering presently."

  "I forgot we couldn't smoke," de Cartienne said, rising. "Come along,then!"

  "You don't mind, Morton, do you?" Cecil asked, turning towards me. "It'sawfully cosy up in Len's room."

  "Certainly not," I answered, finishing my coffee. "I'll come, but I can'tplay."

  "Oh, that doesn't matter! You can watch us
for a bit, and you'll soonpick it up. Hi, James!" Cecil sang out, as that worthy showed himself atthe door for a minute, "bring us up some whisky and half a dozen bottlesof seltzer water into Mr. de Cartienne's room, will you? Look sharp,there's a good fellow!"

  de Cartienne's rooms, especially his study, were furnished far moreluxuriously than mine and in excellent taste. The walls and chimney-piecewere covered with charming little sketches, a few foreign prints,photographs, and dainty little trifles of bric-a-brac. Except for thephotographs, some of which were a little _risque_, it was more like alady's boudoir than a man's sitting-room.

  De Cartienne and Cecil seated themselves at a small round table and beganto play almost immediately. I drew an easy chair up to the fire, andclosed my eyes as though I intended going to sleep. As a matter of fact,I meant to watch the game, and closely, too. But Fate decided otherwise.I was really very sleepy, and, though I struggled against it, I wasobliged to yield in the end. I fell asleep, and it must have been nearlytwo hours before I was awakened by a touch on my arm.

  "Wake up, Morton, old chap! It's time we were off to our rooms."

  I sat up and looked at my watch. It was past midnight.

  Cecil was leaning against the table, with his hands in his pockets,looking pale and weary, but exultant.

  "I've been in rare luck to-night!" he exclaimed. "Won a couple of poniesfrom poor old Len, and a whole hatful of I O U's. Here they go!" And heswept a little pile of crumpled papers into the fire.

  I glanced at de Cartienne to see how losing had affected him. Not in theordinary way, at any rate. He was sitting back in his chair, with hisarms crossed, a cigarette between his teeth and an inscrutable smile uponhis thin lips. Somehow I did not like his expression. There was somethinga little too closely approaching contempt in it as he watched Cecil'saction and listened to the exultant ring in his tone--something whichseemed to express a latent power to reverse the result with ease at anytime he thought proper.

  It was rushing to conclusions, no doubt; but as I glanced from Cecil'sboyish, handsome face, a trifle dissipated just now, but open and candid,to the pale, sallow countenance, the large black eyes, and cynical,callous expression of his friend, it seemed to me that I was looking fromthe face of the tempted to the face of the tempter. The one seemed likethe evil genius of the other.