CHAPTER XVII
THE PACE SLACKENS
Steel lay sleepily back in the cab, not quite sure whether hiscigarette was alight or not. They were well into the main road againbefore Bell spoke.
"It is pretty evident that you and I are on the same track," he said.
"I am certain that I am on the right one," David replied; "but, when Icome to consider the thing calmly, it seems more by good luck thananything else. I came out with you to-night seeking adventure, and I ambound to admit that I found it. Also, I found the lady who interviewed mein the darkness, which is more to the point."
"As a matter of fact, you did nothing of the kind," said Bell, with thesuggestion of a laugh.
"Oh! Case of the wrong room over again. I was ready to swear it. Whom didI speak to? Whose voice was it that was so very much like hers?"
"The lady's sister. Enid Henson was not at 218, Brunswick Square, onthe night in question. Of that you may be certain. But it's a queerbusiness altogether. Rascality I can understand. I am beginning tocomprehend the plot of which I am the victim. But I don't mindadmitting that up to the present I fail to comprehend why those girlsevolved the grotesque scheme for getting assistance at your hands. Thewhole thing savours of madness."
"I don't think so," David said, thoughtfully. "The girls are romantic aswell as clever. They are bound together by the common ties of a commonenmity towards a cunning and utterly unscrupulous scoundrel. By themerest accident in the world they discovered that I am in a position toafford them valuable advice and assistance. At the same time they don'twant me to be brought into the business, for two reasons--the first,because the family secret is a sacred one; the second, because anydisclosures would land me in great physical danger. Therefore they puttheir heads together and evolve this scheme. Call it a mad venture if youlike, but if you consider the history of your own country you can findwilder schemes evolved and carried out by men who have had brains enoughto be trusted with the fortunes of the nation. If these girls had beenless considerate for my safety--"
"But," Bell broke in eagerly, "they failed in that respect at the veryoutset. You must have been spotted instantly by the foe, who hascunningly placed you in a dangerous position, perhaps as a warning tomind your own business in future. And if those girls come forward to saveyou--and to do so they must appear in public, mind you--they are bound togive away the whole thing. Mark the beautiful cunning of it. My word, wehave a foe worthy of our steel to meet."
"_We_? Do you mean to say that your enemy and mine is a common one?"
"Certainly. When I found my foe I found yours."
"And who may he be, by the same token?"
"Reginald Henson. Mind you, I had no more idea of it than the dead when Iwent to Longdean Grange to-night. I went there because I had begun tosuspect who occupied the place and to try and ascertain how the Rembrandtengraving got into 218, Brunswick Square. Miss Gates must have heard ustalking over the matter, and that was why she went to Longdean Grangeto-night."
"I hope she got home safe," said David. "The cab man says he put her downopposite the Lawns."
"I hope so. Well, I found out who the foe was. And I have a pretty goodidea why he played that trick upon me. He knew that Enid Henson andmyself were engaged; he could see what a danger to his schemes it wouldbe to have a man like myself in the family. Then the second Rembrandtturned up, and there was his chance for wiping me off the slate. Afterthat came the terrible family scandal between Lord Littimer and his wife.I cannot tell you anything of that, because I cannot speak with definiteauthority. But you could judge of the effect of it on Lady Littimerto-night."
"I haven't the faintest recollection of seeing Lady Littimer to-night."
"My dear fellow, the poor lady whom you met as Mrs. Henson is really LadyLittimer. Henson is her maiden name, and those girls are her nieces.Trouble has turned the poor woman's brain. And at the bottom of the wholemystery is Reginald Henson, who is not only nephew on his mother's side,but is also next heir but one to the Littimer title. At the presentmoment he is blackmailing that unhappy creature, and is manoeuvring toget the whole of her large fortune in his hands. Reginald Henson is theman those girls want to circumvent, and for that reason they came to you.And Henson has found it out to a certain extent and placed you in anawkward position."
"Witness my involuntary guest and the notes and the cigar-case," Davidsaid. "But does he know what I advised one of the girls--my princess ofthe dark room--to do?"
"I don't fancy he does. You see, that advice was conveyed by word ofmouth. The girls dared not trust themselves to correspondence, otherwisethey might have approached you in a more prosaic manner. But I confessyou startled me to-night."
"What do you mean by that?"
"When you sent me that note. What you virtually asked me to do was tocountenance murder. When I went into the sick room I saw that ChristianaHenson was dying. The first idea that flashed across my mind was thatReginald Henson was getting the girl out of the way for his own purposes.My dear fellow, the whole atmosphere literally spoke of albumen. Walkermust have been blind not to see how he was being deceived. I was about togive him my opinion pretty plainly when your note came up to me. Andthere was Enid, with her whole soul in her large eyes, pleading for mysilence. If the girl died I was accessory after and before the fact. Youwill admit that that was a pretty tight place to put a doctor in."
"That's because you didn't know the facts of the case, my dear Bell."
"Then perhaps you'll be so good as to enlighten me," Bell said, drily.
"Certainly. That was part of my scheme. In that synopsis of the storyobtained by the girls by some more or less mechanical means, the reputeddeath of a patient forms the crux of the tale. The idea occurred to meafter reading a charge against a medical student some time ago in the_Standard_. The man wanted to get himself out of the way; he wanted tobe considered as dead, in fact. By the artful use of albumen in certaindoses he produced symptoms of disease which will be quite familiar toyou. He made himself so ill that his doctor naturally concluded that hewas dying. As a matter of fact, he was dying. Had he gone on in the sameway another day he would have been dead. Instead of this he drops thedosing and, going to his doctor in disguise, says that he _is_ dead. Hegets a certificate of his own demise, and there you are. I am nottelling you fiction, but hard fact recorded in a high-class paper. Thedoctor gave the certificate without viewing the body. Well, it struck methat we had here the making of a good story, and I vaguely outlined itfor a certain editor. In my synopsis I suggested that it was a woman whoproposed to pretend to die thus so as to lull the suspicions of avillain to sleep, and thus possess herself of certain vital documents.My synopsis falls into certain hands. The owner of those hands asks mehow the thing was done. I tell her. In other words, the so-called murderthat you imagined you had discovered to-night was the result of design.Walker will give his certificate, Reginald Henson will regard MissChristiana as dead and buried, and she will be free to act for thehonour of the family."
"But they might have employed somebody else."
"Who would have had to be told the history of the family dishonour. Sofar I fancy I have made the ground quite clear. But the mystery of thecigar-case and the notes and the poor fellow in the hospital is still asmuch a mystery as ever. We are like two allied forces working together,but at the same time under the disadvantage of working in the dark. Youcan see, of course, that the awful danger I stand in is as terrible forthose poor girls."
"Of course I do. Still, we have a key to your trouble. It is adreadfully rusty one and will want a deal of oiling before it's used,but there it is."
"Where, my dear fellow, where?" David asked.
"Why, in the Sussex County Hospital, of course. The man may die, inwhich case everything must be sacrificed in order to save your goodname. On the other hand, he may get better, and then he will tell us allabout it."
"He might. On the other hand, he might plead ignorance. It is possiblefor him to suggest that the whole affair was me
rely a coincidence, so faras he was concerned."
"Yes, but he would have to explain how he burgled your house, and whatbusiness he had to get himself half murdered in your conservatory. Let usget out here and walk the rest of the way to your house. Our cabby knowsquite enough about us without having definite views as to your address."
The cabman was dismissed with a handsome _douceur_, and the twain turnedoff the front at the corner of Eastern Terrace. Late as it was, therewere a few people lounging under the hospital wall, where there was asuggestion of activity about the building unusual at that time of thenight. A rough-looking fellow, who seemed to have followed Bell and Steelfrom the front, dropped into a seat by the hospital gates and laid hishead back as if utterly worn out. Just inside the gates a man was smokinga cigarette.
"Halloa, Cross," David cried, "you are out late tonight!"
"Heavy night," Cross responded, sleepily, "with half a score of accidentsto finish with. Some of Palmer of Lingfield's private patients thrown offa coach and brought here in the ambulance. Unless I am greatly mistaken,that is Hatherly Bell with you."
"The same," Bell said, cheerfully. "I recollect you in Edinburgh. So someof Palmer's patients have come to grief. Most of his special cases usedto pass through my hands."
"I've got one here to-night who recollects you perfectly well," saidCross. "He's got a dislocated shoulder, but otherwise he is doing well.Got a mania that he's a doctor who murdered a patient."
"Electric light anything to do with the story?" Bell asked, eagerly.
"That's the man. Seems to have a wonderfully brilliant intellect if youcan only keep him off that topic. He spotted you in North Streetyesterday, and seemed wonderfully disappointed to find you had nothingwhatever to do with this institution."
"If he is not asleep," Bell suggested, "and you have no objection--"
Cross nodded and opened the gate. Before passing inside Bell took therolled-up Rembrandt from his deep breast-pocket and handed it to David.
"Take care of this for me," he whispered. "I'm going inside. I've droppedupon an old case that interested me very much years ago, and I'd like tosee my patient again. See you in the morning, I expect. Good-night."
David nodded in reply and went his way. It was intensely quiet and stillnow; the weary loafer at the outside hospital seat had disappeared.There was nobody to be seen anywhere as David placed his key in thelatch and opened the door. Inside the hall-light was burning, and so wasthe shaded electric lamp in the conservatory. The study leading to theconservatory was in darkness. The effect of the light behind wasartistic and pleasing.
It was with a sense of comfort and relief that David fastened the doorbehind him. Without putting up the light in the study David laid theRembrandt on his table, which was immediately below the window in hiswork-room. The night was hot; he pushed the top sash down liberally.
"I must get that transparency removed," he murmured, "and have the windowfilled with stained glass. The stuff is artistic, but it is so franklywhat it assumes to be."