CHAPTER VIII--_The Cut Panel_
In the famous white drawing-room at Beaumanoir House Sybil Hanbury waspreparing to end a solitary evening by the simple process of going tobed. The butler, a martyr to punctilio, had insisted on lighting everyjet in the chandeliers and in the sconces on the walls, with the resultthat the vast apartment scintillated like a ball-room, accentuating theloneliness of the black-clad little figure of its sole occupant.
Sybil laid aside her book, and surveyed the splendid emptiness of theroom with a smile of amusement for her monopoly of so much gorgeouslyupholstered space. But as she realized that her monopoly of the whitedrawing-room was only a detail in the much larger incongruity of hermonopoly of the Piccadilly mansion, her face took a graver look.
"I trust that the Vincents will be ready to take me in next week," shemused with a touch of impatience. "The idea of a score of servants andan acre of ducal palace being run for a simple body like me is tooridiculous, especially with the rightful owner ready to takepossession."
She had been both puzzled and attracted by her cousin at GeneralSadgrove's that afternoon. As a child she had heard so much contemptuousobloquy poured on the absent ne'er-do-well that, in spite of hisgenerosity to Alec Forsyth and his consideration for herself, she hadbeen prepared to cling to the old prejudice. It had, however, at oncebroken down under the pathetic plea for friendship which she haddiscerned in the Duke's troubled eyes, for her womanly insight told herthat the new head of the family was under the influence of a mentalstrain almost amounting to physical distress.
"He looks like a man sitting on an infernal machine, listening to thetick-tack of the clock-work," she reflected. "Yet I don't think he'swicked, or the sort of person with a past likely to fly up and hit himin the face. I wish I knew what he is grizzling about, so that Alec andI could do him a good turn in exchange for his benevolence."
She had risen with the intention of retiring to her own room, when thebutler entered hurriedly, and with traces of well-disciplined agitationon his episcopal countenance. Mr. Prince had grown gray in the ducalservice; but, beyond a slight fatherliness of manner, he did not presumeon the fact towards the orphan scion of the great house.
"I really don't know, Miss, if I ought to disturb you so late on such amatter," he said. "Two men have called to see his Grace, and, failinghim, insisted on my ascertaining if you would receive them."
"I know nothing of the Duke's affairs, and I am just going up to bed,"Sybil replied, wondering at the usually correct retainer's excitement."Besides, Prince, 'insist' is rather a curious word to use here," sheadded with a trace of asperity.
"I should not have ventured to repeat such an objectionable phrase,Miss, if it had not been used with a sort of authority," the butlerhastened to put himself right. "I ought to have mentioned that they areScotland Yard detectives, which accounts for my being a bit flurried."
Sybil promptly sat down again and bade Prince show the visitors in. Shehad no desire to pry into her cousin's business, nor did her receptionof the police-officers imply any such intention. But at that moment herpreconceived notion that the Duke was the center of a mystery tookdefinite shape, and she was above all things loyal to the house. Shedecided that in her cousin's interest it would be wiser to see thesemen, and, if possible, fore-arm herself with a knowledge of theirdesigns.
But when Prince returned it was to usher in not two men, but only one--acadaverous, middle-aged person in the garb of a clergyman, who waitedobsequiously near the door while his card was presented by the butler.
"I found when I got back into the hall that he'd sent the other manaway, Miss--said there was no need for two of them to intrude upon you,"explained Prince in an undertone.
Sybil nodded, but the furtive glances of the clerically dressed visitorcaused her to call Prince back as he was retiring.
"I trust you didn't leave them alone in the hall?" she whispered.
"Oh, dear, no, Miss; William, the second footman, was on duty in thehall while I came to you," was the reply, uttered in a slightly injuredtone.
Prince having taken a dignified departure, Sybil beckoned forward theindividual whom his card proclaimed to be "Inspector Chantrey, CriminalInvestigation Department." He advanced with a shambling walk and withdeprecating gestures in keeping with his disguise; but Sybil formed theopinion that all his nervousness was not simulated. It struck her thathe was listening intently as he threaded his way through the pricelessLouis Seize garniture of the white drawing-room.
He stood before her at last, for all the world like a half-famished wolfin the presence of a very wide-awake and dainty lamb that had not theleast intention of being devoured. He spoke hurriedly--almostperfunctorily, as though he set no great store by his questions or theanswers to them; and all the time that listening attitude wasnoticeable.
"I called in the hope of finding his Grace at home," he began, with ahalf-note of interrogation.
"Well, the butler will have told you that he is not at home," said Sybilsharply.
"True; but servants are not always reliable, and I thought I had bettersee one of the family. Might I ask if the Duke is expected hereto-night?"
"No, he isn't. What do you want him for?" snapped Sybil.
The _aplomb_ of the question seemed to take the inquisitor back. Heglanced curiously at the girl in the high-backed arm-chair, firstscanning her tenacious little face, but quickly dropping his shifty eyesto the carelessly crossed shoes.
He began to "hem" and "ha."
"The fact of the matter is, we have had a communication from the countypolice at Prior's Tarrant, in respect of an assault on one of theservants in the park yesterday. The local people think the attack mayhave been intended for the Duke, and they have wired us to makeinquiries."
The reason alleged for his visit sounded plausible, and in some degreemight account for the hunted look she had surprised in the Duke's eyes.Yet she was not altogether satisfied. It was conceivable that the policeshould want to question the Duke, but the excuse for intruding on her atsuch an hour hardly seemed adequate.
"I am still at a loss to see how I can be of service to you in a matterof which I know nothing," she said, not attempting to keep the suspicionout of her voice.
"I only desired to make sure, madam, that the Duke was not at home.Having obtained that assurance from the fountain-head, pray permit me towithdraw," was the nervously spoken reply, punctuated by an awkward bowand the commencement of a hurried retreat. But the visitor had onlytaken three steps down the long vista of the room when the door wasflung open, and Prince announced, with the air of one who springs asurprise:
"His Grace the Duke!"
Beaumanoir was very pale, but he advanced without hesitation, meetingSibyl's interrogator half-way up the room. Startled as she was by hercousin's unexpected appearance, the girl intuitively rose and wentforward, vaguely conscious of a desire to hear if the man repeated thesame tale.
"Well, sir?" said the Duke, curtly.
Sybil hardly knew whether or no she was relieved when, word for word,the man repeated the reason he had just given her for his call. Watchingher cousin's face, she saw the pallor yield to a flush of evidentannoyance.
"Oh, yes; something of the kind occurred in the park at Prior'sTarrant," he angrily replied. "But all this about the man being mistakenfor me is officious nonsense--too trivial to warrant your pushing yourway into this young lady's presence at eleven o'clock at night. I shallcomplain to your superiors of this most impertinent intrusion."
"What could it mean?" Sybil asked herself. The man's nervous air--hisattitude of listening--had disappeared. His sly face grew sleeklyimpudent under Beaumanoir's rebuke and it was quite jauntily that heanswered:
"Then I'll bid your Grace good-night. Very possibly you'll reconsiderthe advisability of raising the question at Scotland Yard."
The clerical coat-tails went flapping down the room, the Duke followingthem to the door, where he handed their owner over to Prince, who washovering in the hall. Having given a sh
arp order to "show the gentlemanout," Beaumanoir returned to Sybil, humbly apologetic, but with signs ofhaste in his manner.
"My dear cousin, I am more than annoyed at Prince's laxity in admittingthat fellow," he said, taking her hand. "It is fortunate that I chancedto look in in the hope of finding you up, and so was able to rid you ofhim. I came to leave a message for Alec in case he calls presently."
"But Alec is the pink of propriety," exclaimed Sibyl, laughing in spiteof herself. "He doesn't call on an unprotected damsel, even if he isengaged to her, at eleven o'clock at night."
"Nevertheless, I believe that he will call here very shortly; and Ishould like him to be told that I am all right, and, in fact, that I amgoing out of town for a few days to the sea-side. I will communicatewith him when I want him to enter on his secretarial duties. That isall, I think. I must really be off now."
But Sybil would not at once take his proffered hand. She remembered thathe had mentioned that he was to spend the night at Alec's chambers, andthis sudden derangement of plans, coupled with the lurking suggestion inhis message, was, to say the least of it, mysterious. Looking into thetired eyes, she found again that expression of sleepless worry that hadpuzzled her. Why should it be necessary for this young man, newly cometo great wealth and station, to notify his friend so feverishly that hewas "all right," and in the same breath announce his retreat from Londonto some vague destination--not to his own country-seat?
"As you expect Alec here, wouldn't it be better to wait for him?" sheurged; adding naively, "I could even offer you a bed, if you wouldcondescend to make yourself at home in your own house."
But Beaumanoir was in no mood to perceive the humor of the situation. Hewas clearly fidgeting to be gone, and Sybil could only conclude that hewanted to be gone before Alec arrived. With a girl's faith in herlover's power to surmount most difficulties, she decided to try anddetain her cousin as long as possible; but her diplomacy was not calledinto play. Prince, now wearing an air of mild protest at all theseexcursions and alarums, appeared in the doorway to announce:
"Mr. Forsyth."
Beaumanoir was evidently disconcerted at not having made his exit intime; and Sybil, recognizing that there was something between the twomen not for her ears, tactfully withdrew to the other end of the room,after smiling a greeting to her lover. She thought none the worse of himbecause he was too preoccupied to return it. She was beginning todiscern an undercurrent of serious import beneath the happenings of thepast half-hour.
"What made you break cover, old chap? You've given me a pretty scare,"said Forsyth to the Duke. "When I found you'd gone, I came on here onthe off-chance."
"I didn't think it fair to subject you to the sort of night you mighthave had with me as an inmate, so I cleared out," Beaumanoir replied,wearily. "I guessed you'd inquire here, so I called in to leave wordthat I was all right--up to date."
"You were not molested before quitting my chambers?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Because the place has been visited; it must have been after you left,"said Forsyth, gravely. And he went on to relate how he had found thedoor broken open, and how he had met two suspicious-looking men on thestairs, one dressed as a clergyman and the other in shabby tweeds.
"Dressed as a clergyman?" cried Beaumanoir, startled into forgetfulnessof Sybil's presence in the room. "Then, Alec, I have stood face to facewith death in this house not ten minutes ago. I found your sham parsonhere, professing to be an official detective; but I doubted him from thefirst."
His raised tones reached Sybil, who realized that the house ofBeaumanoir was confronted by no ordinary emergency. What the peril couldbe that threatened her noble relative she had no means of knowing, orany wish to know; but the Duke's description of himself as standing"face to face with death" amid the seeming security of his own whitedrawing-room touched her with the icy hand of unknown dread, and,moreever, filled her with a sense of responsibility. The man who was notsafe under the dazzling lights of that splendid apartment, with a hostof servants within call, was going forth into all the insecurity of theLondon streets at midnight because, her instinct told her, he would notexpose her to the same danger.
Her cousin's chivalry appealed not only to her loyalty to the house, butto that protective impulse which springs readily in every woman's heart.
"I couldn't help overhearing you," she said, coming forward. "I, too,doubted that man--very strongly. I am sure he meant no good. But what Iwant to say, Cousin Charles, is that you must remain here to-night. Ifyou go out of the house, I shall go also."
Forsyth shot a grateful look at her.
"The best possible plan," he said, quickly. "Now, don't be obstinate,Duke. The man has left the premises, I presume? Good! That being so, weshall be a poor lot if we can't prevent his getting in again, which heis hardly likely to attempt. There is nothing to hinder you fromspending a quiet night here, without the slightest risk ofunpleasantness either to Sybil or to yourself, and in the morning youand I can talk over your future movements at leisure."
"And I quite meant what I said," Sybil added, firmly. "If you won't stayhere, you will put me to the inconvenience of turning out and going toan hotel at twelve o'clock at night. I have no intention of being forcedinto the horrid feeling that I am keeping you from the shelter of yourown roof."
Under the pleading of the two pairs of kindly eyes turned on himBeaumanoir wavered. The chance of sleep and rest was tempting. Hestepped to the door, and found Prince in the great entrance-hall.
"That man who called himself a detective has gone?" he inquired. "Youare sure there is no mistake about it? You showed him to the dooryourself, and saw him out?"
"And secured the door immediately afterwards, your Grace. Mr. Forsythwill bear me out in that; I had to withdraw the bolts to admit him."
Beaumanoir returned to the drawing-room.
"You are both very good, and I will stay for to-night only," heassented. "I wish I could make the explanation I owe you, but--well, Iam the victim of circumstances."
"The explanation will keep," said Forsyth, bluntly. "May I stay too?"
The permission was, of course, accorded, and Sybil bade them good-nightand retired to her room, giving orders on the way for two adjoiningbedrooms to be prepared for them. The two men went into the smoking-roomfor a whisky and cigarette while the rooms were being got ready; buteach with tacit consent avoided the topic of the moment. The one idea inAlec's mind was to let Beaumanoir have a good sleep, and persuade himinto a serious discussion in the morning.
They parted at the door of their bedrooms on the first floor, where thelate Duke's valet, who was still in the house, had done everythingpossible to cope with the sudden emergency. Pajamas had been routed out,and toilet requisites provided. The windows of both rooms looked outover the ceaseless traffic of Piccadilly, so that no danger could beapprehended from that quarter; yet Forsyth sat for a long time beforeturning in to bed. In his ignorance of what was the source of the Duke'sdanger, he had been loath to excite remark among the servants by fussingabout the proper locking up of the mansion; but the stately tread ofPrince going his rounds reassured him on that point, and eventually heslept.
In the meanwhile, Sybil, in her room at the other end of the samecorridor, was finding a still greater difficulty in composing herself torest. The events of the evening, in such startling contrast with thenormal calm of the dignified establishment that had been her home, hadunsettled--not to say alarmed--her, and she felt no inclination to thelace-edged pillow that usually wooed her to willing slumbers. She was asound, healthy girl, untroubled by nerves; but she felt a singular needfor alertness, unreasonable perhaps, but imperative.
The Duke's anxiety to make sure that the clerically dressed individualhad really left the house had impressed her; and now, too late forinquiry, she remembered that she had omitted to mention that _two_ menhad called, one of them not having been shown into her presence. Thelatter, Prince had said, had been dismissed by his colleague; but hisdeparture had only been wi
tnessed by William, the second footman--adreamy servant at the best of times, and unreliable by reason of ahopeless attachment to the senior housemaid. The thought thrilled Sybilthat the other man, having hoodwinked the footman, might still be in thehouse, concealed in one of the many unused rooms.
The idea of a lurking prowler, biding his time in the stillness of thesleeping household, kept her wakeful. Once or twice she looked out intothe corridor; but the flicker of her candle only showed two rows ofclosed doors, without a sign of life, and each time she went back andtried to fix her attention on a book. So the night dragged into thesmall hours; and about three o'clock, after a longer interval thanbefore, she determined to take one more peep and then get into bed.
She had already grasped the door-handle, when she withdrew her hand asthough it had been stung by an adder. A faint scrooping sound told herthat someone was doing something in the corridor, and half a minute'sstrained listening told her that, whatever that something was, it waspersistent and continuous. It went on and on, like the drone of a bee ina bottle.
Silently crossing the room, she turned down her gas to a pin-point andblew out the candle with which she had intended to investigate. Then shereturned to the door, and, opening it noiselessly, tiptoed into theouter darkness. Here the sound, though still faint, was more distinctlyaudible, and she was able to locate it at the door of the room occupiedby the Duke. The discovery left her no time for fear, or even forconjecture. There was only one thing to be done--to rouse Alec and theDuke, but without, till that supreme moment, alarming the unseenmanipulator at her cousin's door. Thus would she narrow the time at thedisposal of that mysterious person for revising his plans and effectinghis escape.
The thick pile carpet made for silence, and she stole quietly along thebroad passage, touching and counting the doors till she reached that ofForsyth's room--only a few feet from the gentle buz-buz that hadattracted her attention, and only a few feet from someone stealthily atwork in the dark. A steady snore from the interior of the Duke's chamberexplained his complacence under that uncanny tampering with hisapproaches.
Again giving herself no time for fear, Sybil beat a rat-tat on Forsyth'sdoor, calling him by name. The sound at the next door immediatelyceased, an instant of intense silence following, and then almostsimultaneously two things happened. An iron grip settled on the girl'swrist, just as Forsyth flung open the door of his room, in which he hadwisely turned the gas full on as he leaped out of bed. The lightstreamed into the corridor and shone upon a man in shabby tweeds andbowler hat, who was holding Sybil, but not so hampered that he wasprevented from drawing a revolver and aiming straight at Forsyth's head.
_"The procession of three led by the stranger."_]
Whether he intended to fire or offer an ultimatum was not demonstrated,for before he could do either he was taken in the rear and found himselfa target. There stood the Duke in his pajamas, with a handy little Smithand Wesson not a foot from the intruder's temples, and with his lefthand significantly extended.
"Give me that pistol," he said, sternly.
Beaumanoir was dealing with a tangible foe at last, and with a thrill ofracial pride Sybil noted the light of battle in her relative's eye. Itwas, therefore, more than a shock to her when the Duke, having relievedthe tweed-coated lurker of his weapon, calmly added:
"Now, sir, if you will be good enough to march in front of me down tothe front door, I will let you out. You two," he continued, addressingSybil and Forsyth in the same quiet tones, "will greatly oblige me bynot raising any alarm or disturbing the servants while I am gone."
"I am coming downstairs with you," said Forsyth, drily.
When the procession of three, led by the stranger with a brace ofpistols at his head, had filed off to the grand staircase, Sybil ranback to her room and fetched her candle. An inspection of the Duke'sdoor showed that a panel had been partially cut out with a watch-springsaw, which was still sticking in the almost invisible fissure.