*CHAPTER XVI*
*THE YELLOW HAND*
It was not difficult to watch the slender figure of the stranger as hemade his way leisurely up the staircase. In the ordinary course Mercerwould have hardly recognized him at all. There were hundreds of peoplethere in all kinds of the extravagant fancy dress which one usuallyassociates with theatrical enterprise. But the more Mercer looked atthe little man the more convinced was he that the stranger was notdisguised at all. He was slight and slender, his dress-clothes fittedhim to perfection, and he wore the air of a man who was accustomed tothat kind of thing. As to his head it was small and lean, his skinglistened like polished parchment, his dark, restless eyes were turnedfrom side to side, though he did not appear in the least degree excited.
"He interests you?" Wilfrid asked.
"Why, certainly," Russell replied. "I should have thought that he wouldinterest you, too, knowing all you do know. Now who should you say thatfellow is, and where do you suppose he comes from? Take your time."
"Well, I should say that he is an Asiatic of some kind," Wilfridreplied. "And a full-blooded one at that. If he did not look so muchat home in his dress-clothes and on such easy terms with hissurroundings I could imagine him to be the head of some savage tribe oranother. I can see him in his warpaint with his braves around him. But,of course, that is all nonsense, Russell. Whatever nationality thefellow belongs to, he is an educated man, and they don't breed that kindin the Malay Archipelago."
"Now that is just where you make the mistake," Russell answered. "Thereare certain islands in the Malay Archipelago which have never beenexplored by white men yet. Of course, I am not speaking oforchid-hunters and that kind of people, but I know for a fact that inNorth-eastern Borneo there are one or two tribes who come very near thelevel of our modern civilization. But we don't want to discuss that atpresent. Still, I was personally acquainted with one chief whose twosons were being educated at English public schools. Perhaps I will tellyou his history later. Meanwhile, I don't mean to lose sight of ourfriend. Let's push boldly inside and chance it. I know two or threeofficials connected with the theatre, and they will help me if they can.Ah, there is Franklin, the very man I want to see. Come along."
Swan dragged his companion eagerly up the stairs and laid his hand onthe shoulder of a florid man in front of him. As the other man turnedhis face, there was no occasion to ask his profession. He had stagemanager written all over him.
"Don't stop to ask questions," Russell said. "This is my friend, WilfridMercer. We had invitations for the front of the house to-night; infact, you were good enough to get them for us. As things have turnedout, it is more or less essential that we should become your guests forthe time being. Can't you rig us up in something in yourproperty-room?"
"You were always a queer sort," the stage manager said with a smile. "Isuppose it is no use asking you what mischief you are up to now? Oh, Ican smuggle you in right enough, especially as certain guests havefailed us at the last moment. If you will come with me I will rig youboth up in some sort of fancy dress. Only it seems hard that I shouldbe kept out of the joke. Come this way."
"You shall know all about the joke in good time," Russell said grimly."For the present, all I want you to do is to leave us severely alone. Isuppose we could mention your name if any awkward questions were asked."
The stage manager replied good-naturedly enough, and some half an hourlater Russell and his companion were roaming about the flies, mixingunconcernedly with hundreds of well-known people who appeared to be bentupon enjoyment. Meanwhile, the little yellow man had vanished.
"Oh, we shall see him sooner or later," Russell said cheerfully. "Did Itell you what the programme is? There is to be a kind of varietyentertainment on the stage and then the theatre will be closed andsupper partaken of at separate tables on the stage. After that thefloor will be cleared for dancing and those who don't care for the'light fantastic' will amuse themselves in the body of the theatre. Ithink we had better separate and I will meet you here when the signalfor supper is given."
Mercer glanced at the clock and saw that the hour was close upon twelve.The time had gone more quickly than he had expected, and if he were tocatch Beatrice Galloway he would have to go at once. A well-known operaquartette was occupying the stage to the exclusion of everything else,so that it was easy to steal down the stairs to the vestibule. A fewyoung couples had secreted themselves behind the palms and flowers. Itwas some time before Mercer could make out the form of Beatrice seatedalone. She looked up as he accosted her and he was not sorry to seethat she failed to recognize him. He was got up like one of the ThreeMusketeers and the upper part of his face was masked.
"I'm afraid you have made a mistake," the girl murmured.
"Indeed, I have not," Wilfrid said. "You did not expect to see me likethis, but my friend, Swan Russell, has managed this quick change. On thewhole, I am glad not to be recognized, because I can speak the morefreely to you without arousing the suspicions of Mr. Flower."
Beatrice glanced uneasily at her companion.
"But why should you be afraid of him?" she asked. "Surely you have doneno wrong to him. On the contrary, he has every reason to regard you asone of his best friends."
"It should appear so," Wilfrid said thoughtfully, "but, candidly, do youthink your uncle is friendly towards me?"
It was some time before Beatrice replied. She glanced down with atroubled expression on her face.
"Really, I don't know," she confessed. "I don't feel sure of anythinglately. And my uncle is so changed. He is so different to everybody,even to me. He is afraid of something. I am certain some greatdisaster hangs over us. It is all the more trying and nerve-destroyingthat I have not the remotest notion what it is. I don't know why I amhere to-night, for instance. I don't know why I have been dragged awayfrom Maldon Grange. We have always been very good friends, or I shouldhesitate before I spoke as freely as this to you. And now I am going toask you a question which I hope you will answer candidly. Do you thinkthis mystery has anything to do with the attempt to rob Maldon Grangethe other night?"
Wilfrid endeavoured to devise some plausible reply. Nothing could begained by telling the girl the truth. On the other hand, she might bestill more disturbed.
"I am afraid I cannot tell you," he said.
"Do you mean that you won't tell me?" Beatrice asked.
"I think you can trust me," Wilfrid went on. "I think you can allow meto know what is for the best. I must ask you to have patience for thepresent, to rest secure in the knowledge that whatever happens no harmwill come to you. And why worry yourself with these things at such atime as this? You ought to be enjoying yourself like the other guests.There is no suggestion of tragedy in this brilliant scene?"
Beatrice leaned towards her companion.
"I am not so sure of it," she whispered. "At first I enjoyed itimmensely. I had never seen anything like it before, and the brilliancyof the scene carried me quite out of myself. And yet I cannot helpfeeling that the trouble is here; in fact I have seen it for myself. Doyou remember the night I sent for you when my uncle was hurt? I told youall about that skinny hand pushed through the broken piece of glass andhow the hand was fishing for the latch with a piece of string. Youhaven't forgotten that?"
Wilfrid shook his head. He was not likely to forget Beatrice's story.
"But what connexion is there between that hand and such an assembly asthis?" he asked.
"Because I have seen the hand here," Beatrice went on in the sameintense whisper. "Half an hour ago one of my friends came up to me withthe offer of an ice, and we went into one of the refreshment rooms.There were a lot of men crushing round the bar, most of them drinkingchampagne and laughing and chattering. I was gazing about in athoughtless kind of way when three men came in together and asked forchampagne. One was a little man with his back turned towards me, and Icould not see his face. One of his
companions with a chaffing remarkleaned over the counter and took a glass of champagne, at the same timetelling his diminutive companion that he had been saved the humiliationof standing on a chair to get it. And then as the little man's hand wasstretched forward I recognized the yellow claw that I had seen gropingfor the latch in the conservatory."