CHAPTER XVI
There is something very bewildering and distressing in the suddendisappearance or even the absence of a human being to whose affectionateand constant presence one has become accustomed. And as the hours wentby, and no letter or message arrived from Anna Wolsky, Sylvia becameseriously troubled, and spent much of her time walking to and from thePension Malfait.
Surely Anna could not have left Paris, still less France, without herluggage? All sorts of dreadful possibilities crowded on Sylvia's mind;Anna Wolsky might have met with an accident: she might now be lyingunidentified in a Paris hospital....
At last she grew so uneasy about her friend that she felt she must dosomething!
Mine host of the Villa du Lac was kind and sympathetic, but even he couldsuggest no way of finding out where Anna had gone.
And then Sylvia suddenly bethought herself that there was one thing shecould do which she had not done: she could surely go to the police ofLacville and ask them to make inquiries in Paris as to whether there hadbeen an accident of which the victim in any way recalled Anna Wolsky.
To her surprise, M. Polperro shook his head very decidedly.
"Oh no, do not go to the police!" he said in an anxious tone. "No, no, Ido not advise you to do that! Heaven knows I would do anything in reasonto help you, Madame, to find your friend. But I beg of you not to ask meto go for you to the police!"
Sylvia was very much puzzled. Why should M. Polperro be so unwilling toseek the help of the law in so simple a matter as this?
"I will go myself," she said.
And just then--they were standing in the hall together--the Comte deVirieu came up.
"What is it you will do yourself, Madame?" he asked, smiling.
Sylvia turned to him eagerly.
"I feel that I should like to speak to the police about Anna Wolsky," sheexclaimed. "It is the first thing one would do in England if a friendsuddenly disappeared--in fact, the police are always looking for peoplewho have gone away in a mysterious manner. You see, I can't help beingafraid, Count Paul"--she lowered her voice--"that Anna has met with somedreadful accident. She hasn't a friend in Paris! Suppose she is lying nowin some hospital, unable to make herself understood? I only wish that Ihad a photograph of Anna that I could take to them."
"Well, there is a possibility that this may be so. But remember it iseven more probable that Madame Wolsky is quite well, and that she will beannoyed at your taking any such step to find her."
"Yes," said Sylvia, slowly. "I know that is quite possible. And yet--andyet it is so very unlike Anna not to send me a word of explanation! Andthen, you know in that letter she left in her room at the Pension Malfaitshe positively promised to send a telegram about her luggage. Surely itis very strange that she has not done that?"
"Well, if you really wish the police communicated with," said the Comtede Virieu, "I will go to the police-station here, with pleasure."
"Why should we not go together?" asked Sylvia, hesitatingly.
"By all means. But think over what we are to say when we get there. Ifyour friend had not left the letter behind her, then, of course it wouldbe our positive duty to communicate with the police. But I cannot helpbeing afraid--" He stopped abruptly.
"Of what are you afraid?" asked Sylvia eagerly.
"I am afraid that Madame Wolsky may be very much offended by yourinterference in the matter."
"Oh, no!" cried Sylvia. "Indeed, in that you are quite mistaken! I knowAnna would never be offended by anything I could do. She was very fond ofme, and so am I of her. But in any case I am willing to risk it. Yousee"--her voice broke, quivered--"I am really very unhappy about Anna--"
"When would you like to go to the Commissioner of Police?" asked theCount.
"Is there any reason why we should not go now?"
"No. Let us go at once. I only had the feeling that you might hear fromher any moment."
Together they walked up into the little town of Lacville. To each anyexpedition in which the other took part had become delightful. They weretogether now more than they had ever been before. No, Count Paul couldnot be sorry that Sylvia's friend had left Lacville. He had no wish forher return.
At last they came to a rather mean-looking white house; out of one of thewindows hung a tricolour flag.
"Here we are!" he said briefly.
"It doesn't look a very imposing place," said Sylvia smiling.
But all the same, as the Count rang the bell Sylvia suddenly felt asif she would like to run away! After all, what should she say to theCommissioner of Police? Would he think her interference in Anna's affairsstrange and uncalled for? But she kept her thoughts to herself.
They were shown into a room where a tired-looking man bent over a large,ink-stained table littered over with papers.
"Monsieur? Madame?" he glanced up inquiringly, and gave them a searchinglook. But he did not rise from the table, as Sylvia expected him todo. "What can I do for you?" he said. "I am at your service," and againhe stared with insistent curiosity at the couple before him, at thewell-dressed young Englishwoman and at her French companion.
The Count explained at some length why they had come.
And then at last the Commissioner of Police got up.
"Madame has now been at Lacville three weeks?"--and he quickly made anote of the fact on a little tablet he held in his hand. "And her friend,a Polish lady named Wolsky, has left Lacville rather suddenly? Madamehas, however, received a letter from her friend explaining that she hadto leave unexpectedly?"
"No," said Sylvia, quickly, "the letter was not sent to me; it was leftby my friend in her bed-room at the Pension Malfait. You see, the strangething, Monsieur, is that Madame Wolsky left all her luggage. She tookabsolutely nothing with her, excepting, of course, her money. And as yetnothing has come from her, although she promised to telegraph where herluggage was to be sent on to her! I come to you because I am afraid thatshe had met with some accident in the Paris streets, and I thought youwould be able to telephone for us to the Paris Police."
She looked very piteously at the French official, and his face softened,a kindly look came over it.
"Well, Madame," he said, "I will certainly do everything I can. But Imust ask you to provide me first with a few more particulars about yourfriend."
"I will tell you everything I know. But I really do not know very much."
"Her age?" said the Commissioner.
"I do not know her age, but I suppose she is about thirty."
"The place of her birth?"
Sylvia shook her head.
"What is her permanent address? Surely you know with whom you couldcommunicate the news of an accident having happened to her?"
"I am afraid I don't even know that." Sylvia began to feel ratherfoolish. But--but was it so strange after all? Who among the people shewas now living with knew anything of her far-away English home? Ifanything happened to herself, for instance? Even Count Paul would notknow to whom to write. It was an odd, rather an uncomfortable thought.
The Commissioner went to a drawer and pulled out from it a portfoliofilled with loose pieces of paper.
"Malfait? Malfait? Malfait?" he muttered interrogatively to himself. Andat last he found what he was looking for. It was a large sheet, on whichwas inscribed in large round letters "Pension Malfait." There were manyclose lines of writing under the words. He looked down and read throughall that was there.
"The Pension Malfait has a good reputation!" he exclaimed, in a relievedtone. "I gather from what you say, Monsieur,"--he gave a quick shrewdlook at the Count--"that Madame and her friend did not play in a serioussense at the Casino--I mean, there was no large sum of money inquestion?"
Count Paul hesitated--but Sylvia thought that surely it were better totell the truth.
"Yes," she said, "my friend did play, and she played rather high. Shemust have had a large sum of money in her possession when she leftLacville, unless she lost it all on the last day. But I was in Paris,and so I don't know what she did."
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The Commissioner looked grave.
"Ah, but that alters the case very much!" he said. "I must request you tocome with me to the Pension Malfait. We had better pursue our inquiriesthere. If this Madame Wolsky had a large sum of money in notes and gold,it becomes very important that we should know where she is."
They all three left the shabby little house together, and Sylvia couldnot help wondering what would happen there while they were gone. But theCommissioner solved her doubts by turning the key in the door.
The Count hailed a cab, and they all got into it. Then followed a curiouslittle drive. The Commissioner made polite conversation with Mrs. Bailey.He spoke of the beauties of Lacville. "And Madame," he said, pleasantly,"is staying at the Villa du Lac? It is a charming house, with historicassociations."
Sylvia was surprised. She remembered clearly that she had not told thepolice official where she was staying.
When they reached the Pension Malfait they were kept waiting a fewmoments, but at last M. Malfait appeared in the hall. He received themwith obsequious amiability.
Still, even Sylvia could not but be aware that he was extremely angry,and she herself felt wretchedly uncomfortable. What if Anna Wolsky wereall right after all? Would she not blame her for having made such a fuss?
"Everything is quite _en regle_," M. Malfait said smoothly when thepurport of their presence was explained to him in a few curt words bythe Commissioner of Police.
"You see, Monsieur le Commissaire, it is quite simple. The lady left usa letter explaining why she was obliged to go away. I do not know whyMadame"--he turned to Sylvia--"thought it necessary to go to you? We havebeen perfectly open about the whole matter. We are respectable people,and have absolutely nothing to hide. Madame Wolsky's boxes are there, inher bed-room; I might have let the room twice over since she left, butno, I prefer to wait, hoping that the lady--the very charming lady--willcome back."
"By the way, where is the letter which she left?" said the Commissionerin a business-like voice. "I should like to see that letter."
"Where is the letter?" repeated Monsieur Malfait vaguely. Then in a loudvoice, he said, "I will ask my wife for the letter. She looks after thecorrespondence."
Madame Malfait came forward. She looked even more annoyed than herhusband had looked when he had seen by whom Sylvia was accompanied.
"The letter?" she repeated shortly. "Mon Dieu! I do not know where I haveput it. But by this time I almost know it by heart. It was a pleasingletter, for it spoke very warmly of our establishment. But where is theletter?" she looked round her, as if she expected to find it suddenlyappear.
"Ah! I remember to whom I showed it last! It was to that agreeable friendof Madame Wolsky"--she put an emphasis on the word "agreeable," andstared hard at Sylvia as she did so. "It was to that Madame Wachner Ilast showed it. Perhaps she put it in her pocket, and forgot to give itme back. I know she said she would like her husband to see it. Monsieurand Madame Wachner often take their meals here. I will ask them if theyhave the letter."
"Well, at any rate, we had better open Madame Wolsky's trunks; that maygive us some clue," said the Commissioner in a weary voice.
And, to Sylvia's confusion and distress, they all then proceeded to thebed-room where she had last seen her friend, and there Monsieur Malfaitbroke the locks of Anna Wolsky's two large trunks.
But the contents of Anna's trunks taught them nothing. They were only thekind of objects and clothes that a woman who travelled about the world agreat deal would naturally take with her. Everything, however, was takenout, turned over, and looked at.
"If your friend possessed a passport," said the police official in adissatisfied tone, "she has evidently taken it with her. There is nothingof any consequence at all in those boxes. We had better shut them upagain, and leave them."
But when they came down again into the hall, he suddenly asked MonsieurMalfait, "Well, where is the letter?" He had evidently forgotten MadameMalfait's involved explanation.
"I will send you the letter to-morrow," said Monsieur Malfait smoothly."The truth is, we handed it to a lady who was also a friend of MadameWolsky, and she evidently forgot to give it back to us. We will find outwhether she has kept it."
On the way back the Commissioner of Police said gaily,
"It is quite clear that Madame"--he turned and bowed courteously toSylvia--"knows very little of Lacville, Monsieur le Comte! Why, peopleare always disappearing from Lacville! My time would indeed be full wereI to follow all those who go away in a hurry--not but what I have beenonly too delighted to do this for Madame and for Monsieur le Comte."
He then bowed to the Count and stared smilingly at Sylvia.
"I am pleased to think," he went on playfully, "that Madame herself isnot likely to meet with any unpleasant adventure here, for the Villa duLac is a most excellent and well-conducted house. Be assured, Madame,that I will find out in the next few hours if your friend has met withan accident in the Paris streets."
He left them at the gate of the Villa.
When the Commissioner had quite disappeared, the Count observed, "Well,we have done what you wished. But it has not had much result, has it?"
Sylvia shook her head disconsolately.
"No, Count Paul. I am afraid I made a mistake in going to the police. TheMalfaits are evidently very angry with me! And yet--and yet, you know inEngland it's the first thing that people do."
Count Paul laughed kindly.
"It is a matter of absolutely no consequence. But you see, you neverquite understand, my dear friend, that Lacville is a queer place, andthat here, at any rate, the hotel-keepers are rather afraid of thepolice. I was even glad that the Commissioner did not ask to look over_your_ boxes, and did not exact a passport from you!"
More seriously he added, "But I see that you are dreadfully anxious aboutMadame Wolsky, and I myself will communicate with the Paris police aboutthe matter. It is, as you say, possible, though not probable, that shemet with an accident after leaving you."