*CHAPTER III*
*THE REGISTERED LETTER*
Beatrice and Wilfrid looked at Flower in astonishment. He did not seemto heed until his dull eyes met theirs and saw the question whichneither cared to ask.
"A sharp, sudden pain," he gasped, "a pain in my head. I expect I havebeen working too hard. It has gone now. Perhaps it isn't worth takingany notice of. I am told that neuralgia sometimes is almost more thanone can bear. So this is the piece of string the fellow was using,Beatrice? I am afraid I can't disbelieve you any longer. I am surethat there is no string like this in the house. In fact, I never sawanything like it before. What do you make of it, Dr. Mercer?"
Flower was speaking hurriedly. He had assumed an amiability foreign tohis nature. He spoke like a man trying to undo a bad impression.
"It is curious, but I have seen something similar," Mercer said. "Itwas a piece of silken string of the same length, knotted exactly likethis, and the incident happened in the Malay Archipelago. The ship onwhich I was doctor----"
"Oh, you've been a ship's doctor," Flower said swiftly.
Mercer bit his lip with vexation. The slip was an awkward one, butafter that exclamation Flower showed no disposition to carry the queryfarther, and Wilfrid began to breathe more freely. He went oncomposedly enough.
"The ship was laid up for several weeks for repairs. Not caring to beidle I went up country on an exploring expedition, and very rough workit was. As you may be aware, the Malays are both treacherous and cruel,but so long as one treated them fairly, I had nothing to grumble about.I cured one or two of them from slight illnesses and they were grateful.But there was one man there, his name does not matter, who was hated andfeared by them all. I fancy he was an orchid collector. Anyhow, he hada retinue of servants armed with modern weapons, and he led the nativesa terrible life. I purposely avoided him because I did not like him orhis methods. One day I had a note from a servant asking me to come andsee him as he was at the point of death. When I reached the man'squarters I found that all his staff had deserted him, taking everythingthey could lay hands on. The man lay on his bed dead, and with the mosthorrible expression of pain on his face I have ever seen. I could findno cause of death, I could find no trace of illness even. And by whatmysterious means he was destroyed I have not the slightest notion. AllI know is this--round his forehead and the back of his head was atightly twisted piece of silken string with five knots in it, whichmight be the very counterpart of the fragment you hold in your hand."
"And that is all you have to tell us?" Flower asked. He had recoveredhimself, except that his eyes were strangely dilated. "It seems a pityto leave a story in that interesting stage. Is there no sequel?"
"As far as I know, none," Wilfrid admitted. "Still, it is ratherstartling that I should come upon an echo from the past like this. ButI am wasting your time, Mr. Flower. If you would like me to come andsee you tomorrow----"
But Flower did not seem to be listening. Apparently he was debating someproject in his mind.
"No," he said in his quick, sharp way. "I should like you to come againthis evening. We have some friends coming in after dinner, and if youdon't mind dropping in informally in the character of a doctor and guestI shall be greatly obliged. Besides it may do you good."
Wilfrid was not blind to the material side of the suggestion, but didnot accept the invitation too readily. He would look in about half-pastnine. He had said nothing as to meeting Beatrice before. Neither did sheallude to the topic, for which he was grateful. Beatrice led the way tothe door.
"I am not to be disturbed, mind," Flower called out. "I am going intothe library for a couple of hours and I want you to send James Cotter tome, Beatrice. I can see no one till dinner-time."
Flower strode away to the library, where he transacted most of hisbusiness when out of town, and a few moments later there entered asmall, smiling figure in black, humble of face, and with a quick,nervous habit of rubbing his hands one over the other as if he werewashing them. This was James Cotter, Flower's confidant and secretary,and the one man in the world who was supposed to know everything of theinner life of the wealthy ship-owner.
"Come in, Cotter. Sit down and lock the door."
"You have some bad news, sir," Cotter said gravely.
"Bad news! That is a mild way of putting it. Come, my friend, you andI have been through some strange adventures together, and I daresay theyare as fresh in your memory as they are in mine. Do you recollect whathappened ten years ago in Borneo?"
Cotter groaned. "For Heaven's sake, don't speak about it, but thank Godthat business is past and done with. We shall never hear any more ofthem."
Flower paced thoughtfully up and down the room.
"I thought so," he said. "I hoped so. It seemed to me that theprecautions I had taken placed us absolutely outside the zone of danger.As the years have passed away, and you have grown more and more carelessuntil one were inclined to laugh at your own fears, to wake up, as I didan hour ago, to the knowledge that the danger is not only threatening,but actually here----"
"Here!" Cotter cried, his voice rising almost to a scream. "You don'tmean it, sir. You are joking. You are playing with your old servant.The mere thought of it brings my heart into my mouth and sets metrembling."
By way of reply Flower proceeded to explain the strange occurrence inthe conservatory. When he had finished he laid the piece of silkenthread upon the table. Its effect upon Cotter was extraordinary. Hetore frantically at his scanty grey hair. Then he laid his head upon thetable and burst into a flood of senile tears.
"What is the good of going on like that?" Flower said irritably. "Thereis work to be done and no time to be lost. I know you are bold enoughin the ordinary course of things, and can face danger when you see it.The peculiar horror of this thing is its absolute invisibility. But weshall have to grapple with it. We shall have to fight it out alone.But, first of all, there is something to be done which admits of nodelay. I sent into Oldborough for a doctor, and who should turn up butthat very man Mercer, who nearly succeeded in bringing a hornet's nestabout our ears over that affair of the _Guelder Rose_. I should neverhave remembered the fellow if he had not foolishly let out that he was aship's doctor, and naturally I kept my information to myself.
"You know what I want done? That man is poor and struggling. He has tobe crushed. Find out all about him. Find out what he owes and where heowes it. Then you can come to me and I will tell you how to act. Nohalf measures, mind. Mercer is to be driven out of the country, and heis not to return."
Cotter grinned approvingly. This was a commission after his own heart.But from time to time his eyes wandered to that innocent looking pieceof string upon the table, and his face glistened with a greasyperspiration.
"And about that, sir?" he asked with a shudder.
"That will have to keep for the moment. I want you to go to thepost-office and fetch the letters. I am expecting something veryimportant from our agents in Borneo, and you will probably find aregistered letter from them. It relates to that matter of Chutney & Co.It will be written in a cypher which you understand as well as I do.You had better open it and read it, in case there may be urgent reasonsfor cabling a reply at once. As soon as this business is done with andout of the way, Cotter, the better I shall be pleased. It is a bitdangerous even for us. Of course, we can trust Slater, who doeseverything himself and always uses the cypher which I defy even ScotlandYard to unravel. Still, as I said before, the work is dangerous, and Iwill never take on a scheme like that again. You had better use one ofthe cars as far as the post-office to save time."
"I shall be glad to," Cotter muttered. "I should never dare to walkdown to the village in the dark after seeing this infernal piece ofstring. The mere sight of it makes me shiver."
Cotter muttered himself out of the room and Flower was left to his ownthoughts. He sat for half an hour or more till the door opened andCot
ter staggered into the room. He held in a shaking hand an envelopemarked with the blue lines which usually accompany registered letters."Look at it," he mumbled. "That came straight from Borneo, written bySlater himself, sealed with his own private seal, and every line of itin cypher. I should be prepared to swear that no one but Slater hadtouched it. And then when I come to open the envelope, what do I findinside? Why, this! This! This!"
With quivering fingers Cotter drew the letter from the envelope andunfolded the doubled-up page. From the middle of it dropped a smoothsilken object which fell upon the table. It was another mysteriousfive-knotted string.