me?" she demanded quickly.
"I don't know. No name is given."
"Why--for what reason does he wish to see me? Could he not have calledat Pembridge Gardens, or even written making a secret appointment inKensington Gardens or in the Park?"
"To that I am quite unable to give any reply, for I'm in ignorance likeyourself."
"But is it that brutal fellow who threw me down and tore my clothes lastnight?" she asked. "Look!" and she showed her torn blouse.
"I think not," was his response. "But those rents look a bit ugly,don't they," he added. "Come through into the sitting-room, and see ifwe can't find a needle and cotton. I used to keep a travellinghousewife, full of all sorts of buttons and needles and things."
So the pair passed along the short, narrow passage of the flat into thesitting-room which she so vividly recollected the night before. Beforeher was the couch upon which the man who had called himself "Wetherton"had flung her fainting and insensible.
After a brief search in the drawers of an old oak bureau, over in thecorner, the stranger produced a small roll of khaki, in the pockets ofwhich were all sorts of cottons, buttons, needles and odds and ends, therequisites of a travelling bachelor.
She laughed as she selected a needle and a reel of cotton, and thenretired into the bedroom where, for a full quarter of an hour, she satalone mending her torn garments.
The man remained in the sitting-room, staring out of the window into thestreet below, damp and gloomy on that winter's morning.
"A fine home-coming indeed!" he muttered to himself. "They've put anice thing upon me--abduct a girl, and then leave her in my charge!Jim's afraid of being connected with the affair, that's evident. Iwonder who she is, and why they want her? Devilish pretty, and nomistake. It really seems a blackguardly shame to treat her badly, andwreck her young life, as they no doubt intend. By Gad! Jim and hisfriends are cruel as the grave. Poor little thing!" And he sighed and,crossing the room, applied a match to the fire that had already beenlaid.
"Yes," he remarked under his breath. "A fine home-coming. The devilshold me in the hollow of their hands, alas! But if they dare to give meaway, by Jove! I wouldn't spare one of them. These last two years I'vetried to live honestly, and nearly starved in doing so. And now theybring me back by force--back to the old life, because they want myassistance. And if I refuse? Then--well, I suppose they'll compel meto act according to their instructions. Here is a specimen of the dirtywork in progress. I'm holding a poor innocent girl a prisoner on theirbehalf! I'd let her go now--this very moment, but if I did--if I did--what then? I'd be given away to the police in half an hour. No. Ican't afford that--by God, I can't. She must stay here."
Presently Gwen emerged from the bedroom with her blouse repaired, and heinduced her to seat herself reluctantly in the armchair before the fire.
He lit a cigarette and, taking another chair, endeavoured to reassureher that she need have no fear of him.
Then they commenced to chat, he endeavouring to learn something from herwhich might give him an idea of the reason why she had been enticedthere. But with a woman's clever evasion, she would tell him nothing.
He inquired about her lover, but she was silent regarding him. She onlysaid:
"He is abroad just now. And they are evidently aware of his absence.The telegram I received was worded most cleverly. I unfortunately fella victim to their vile conspiracy."
"Is it a plot to prevent you marrying him, do you think?"
"It must be. It can be nothing else," declared the girl quickly. "Oh,when will he return--when will I be able to see him again?"
The tall man shrugged his shoulders. He saw that she was desperate andmight make a rush to escape, therefore, though he begged her pardon hekept the doors locked and the keys in his pocket.
Before his arrival, it seemed, Jim Jannaway had placed provisions in thesmall larder in the kitchen, for there they found bread, tinned tongues,bottled beer, tea, condensed milk and other things. Hence he had nonecessity to go forth to obtain food.
This struck him that an imprisonment of several days must be intended.He felt sorry for the unfortunate girl, yet he dare not connive at herescape. He knew, alas! that he was now upon very dangerous ground.
The whole day they sat together gossiping. For luncheon they had coldtongue and bread, and for dinner the same.
The situation was indeed a curious one, yet as the hours went by and heattempted to amuse her by relating humorous incidents in his ownadventurous life, she gradually grew to believe that he was devoid ofany sinister intention.
Times without number she tried to persuade him to release her, but heexplained his inability. Then, at evening, they sat at the fireside andwhile he smoked she chattered, though she told him practically nothingconcerning herself.
He could not help admiring her neat daintiness and her self-possession.She was a frank, sweet-faced girl, scarce more than a child, whosewonderful eyes held even him, an adventurer, in strange fascination.And that night, when she retired to her room, he handed her the key ofher door that she might lock herself in, and said:
"Sleep in peace, Miss Griffin. I give you my promise that you shall notbe disturbed."
And he bowed to her with all the courtesy of a true-born gentleman.
He sat smoking, thinking deeply and wondering why the girl had beenconfined there. He was annoyed, for by her presence there he also washeld a prisoner.
Just before midnight the bell of the front door rang, and acommissionaire handed him a telegram. The message was in anunintelligible code, which however, he read without hesitation. Then hetossed the message into the fire with an imprecation, switched off thelight, and went to bed.
Next day passed just as the first, but he saw, by the girl's pale faceand darkening eyes, that the constant anxiety was telling upon her.Yes, he pitied her. And she, on her part, began to regard him more asher protector than as her janitor.
He treated her with the greatest consideration and courtesy. And asthey sat together at their meals, she presiding, they often burst outlaughing at the incongruity of the situation. More than once sheinquired his name, but he always laughingly evaded her.
"My name really doesn't matter," he said. "You will only remember mewith hatred, Miss Griffin."
"Though you are holding me here against my will," she replied, "yet ofyour conduct towards me I have nothing to complain."
He only bowed in graceful acknowledgment. No word passed his lips.
On the third morning, about noon, a ring came, and Gwen, startled, flewinto her bedroom and locked the door.
The visitor was none other than Sir Felix Challas, who, grasping thetall man's hand, said:
"Welcome back, my dear Charlie. I'm sorry I couldn't come before, but Iwas called over to Paris on very important business." Then lowering hisvoice he said: "Got the girl here still--eh?"
The other nodded.
"I want to put a few questions to her," Sir Felix said in an undertone,when they were together in the sitting-room, "and if she don't answer metruly, then by Heaven it will be the worse for her. You remember thegirl of that German inventor, three years ago--eh?" he asked with ameaning smile.
The tall man nodded. He recollected that poor girl's fate because shehad refused to betray her father's secret to the great financier.
And this man whom the world so firmly believed to be a God-fearingphilanthropist intended that pretty Gwen Griffin, sweet, innocent andinoffensive, little more than a child, should meet with the same awfulfate. He held his breath. He could have struck the man before him--ifhe dared.
He must blindly do the bidding of this cruel, heartless man who held himso entirely in his power, this gigantic schemer whose "cat's-paw" he hadbeen for years.
And he must stand helplessly by, unable to raise a hand to save thatpoor defenceless victim of a powerful man's passion and avarice.
Alas! that the great god gold must ever be all-powerful in man's world,and women must
ever pay the price.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
IS ABOUT THE DOCTOR.
Doctor Diamond, in his long Wellington boots and overcoat, wasdescending the steep hill into Horsford village one gloomy afternoonwith Aggie at his side.
It had been raining, and the pair had been across the meadows toOverton, a small hamlet where, from a farmhouse, they obtained theirweekly supply of butter. This, the fair-haired child, her clean whitepinafore appearing below her navy-blue coat, carried in a small basketupon her arm. She had been dancing along merrily at the little man'sside, delighted to be out with him for a walk, when, as they came overthe brow of the hill, they saw a man in a long drab mackintosh ascendingin their direction.
The man raised his hand to them, but at first Diamond did not