red-facedman who had raised his hand to strike her.
Who were these people? she wondered. Why did Mullet fear them?
Having exchanged her dress for an easy _robe-de-chambre_, she sat beforethe fire plaiting her long dark tresses, her eyes fixed upon the fire,now fast dying away.
She had knowledge of that marvellous secret--the whereabouts of thebewildering treasure of Israel. Yet how would it all end? Why had herfather suspicion of spies in their own home? What could he suspect?
She wondered, as she had often wondered, what conclusion her father hadformed regarding her mysterious absence from home, and often, in hermoments of reflection, she found herself puzzled and pondering regardingher unconsciousness on that never-to-be-forgotten night when she hadfound herself alone and helpless in the hands of the man who had laughedat her innocence and dismay.
She dare not tell Frank. It was her secret--a dark secret which she hadresolved to keep at all hazards--one that he should never know.
"But he is mine again!" she murmured to herself, a sweet smile ofcontentment playing about her lips. "I have been a fickle girl, I know,but, after all, every girl is entitled to have one good time in herlife. I've had mine, and I have found Frank. I love him, and he lovesme. I know he does. And to-morrow dad will `wire' him, and I shall seehim again. Ah! what will he say, I wonder--now that dad has discoveredthe secret. Dear old dad! He deserves all the _kudos_ he'll get fromthe great discovery, for he's worked hard--worked night and day almost.And the ugly little Doctor? I wonder how he'll take it? One thing isplain, that we have outwitted that red-faced scoundrel and his friends.We know the truth, while they are still in ignorance."
For a long time she sat, her pretty head, with its two long plaitssecured by blue ribbons, pillowed upon the muslin-covered cushion in thelow comfortable armchair, her bare feet thrust into slippers, and uponher sweet countenance an expression of calm content.
The little clock upon her mantelshelf, chiming the half-hour--half-pastthree--aroused her from her reverie, and she shivered, for the fire haddied away and the room had now become chilly. So preoccupied had shebeen that she had not noticed that the fire was already out.
As she stirred herself, she suddenly recollected that, downstairs in thestudy, she had left her book in which she was greatly interested, andwhich she wanted to continue when she awoke in the morning. It was aheavy work of one of the German philosophers which she was studying, forsince leaving school she had done a vast amount of reading, especiallyFrench and German literature. She was highly educated and cultured,and, unlike the average young girl of our twentieth century, she had notput aside her books with her ankle-skirts.
In her long trailing robe of pale _eau-de-nil_ she crossed the room, andseating herself at her writing-table scribbled a note to her dressmaker,which she had forgotten. Then having put a stamp upon it, she quicklyopened her door, crept softly past her father's room, fearing to wakehim, and down the thickly carpeted stairs where her slippered feet fellnoiselessly.
She had no candle, but she knew her way about the house quite well inthe dark, and also knew where to put her hand upon most of the electricswitches.
Creeping softly down, afraid every moment that the stairs would creak--for stairs always have a horrid habit of creaking in the silence of thenight--she carried the letter in her hand for the purpose of placing itin the rack in the study which Laura always cleared when she went to theroom in the morning, and Kate took the letters to the post-office downat the corner.
Reaching the landing she crossed it to the study-door, but as she did soshe saw, to her surprise, a light issuing from the crack beneath.
Her father had evidently returned there to continue his work, as hesometimes did when unable to sleep.
For a second she hesitated whether she should enter, but making up hermind suddenly, she placed her fingers upon the handle and opened thedoor.
Next instant, however, uttering a low cry, she stood upon the threshold,rigid as one petrified.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
"SILENCE FOR SILENCE!"
"_You_!"
It was the only word which the girl uttered, but its tone showed herhorror and indignation.
The green-shaded light was, she saw, switched on at the writing-table,and as she entered, there before her, seated in her father's chair, wasthe man who had posed as Frank's friend, "Captain Wetherton!"
As she had slowly opened the door he had raised his head, pale andstartled. But only for a second. When he recognised who it was, herose and, bowing, smiled with perfect _sangfroid_.
He had entered the house with the false latch-key which he had had madefrom the wax impression he had taken of the key which Gwen had carriedon that night of the false assignation. His only fear had been,however, a meeting with the girl Laura.
Now that he saw that it was not she, he only smiled triumphantly.
"Yes," he said simply. "It's me! Are you very surprised?"
Instantly she recognised that, upon the blotting-pad, was lying open theprecious document which she herself had typed. He had opened thedrawer, abstracted it, and read it.
He, her enemy, knew their secret!
"By what right, pray, are you here, sir?" she demanded, advancing intothe room boldly, and facing him.
"I have no right. I'm here just by my own will," was his quick, defiantresponse.
"This is my father's house, and I shall alarm him," she saiddeterminedly. "You have no right thus to pry into his private affairs!"
"I have to decide that, Miss Griffin," he said, as over his dark facespread that evil smile she remembered so well.
Having risen from the chair, he had now advanced closely to her. Shenoticed that he wore thick woollen socks over his boots, so as to mufflehis footsteps, while upon his hands were a pair of grey _suede_ gloveswhich appeared too large for him. Jim Jannaway had been a man of manyprecautions, ever since his finger-prints had been taken on a certainmemorable day at Ipswich police-station, prior to his conviction.
"But," he laughed, examining her from head to toe, "you really lookcharming, my dear little girl--even better than when in your walkingkit. Why!" he exclaimed, pointing across the room. "Why--what's that--over there?"
She turned suddenly, taking her eyes off him for an instant, but sawnothing. His ruse succeeded, for that instant was sufficient for him toslip behind her and close the door, turning the key in the lock.
"I must apologise for doing this in your own house, Miss Griffin, but Ifear that we may be overheard," he said. "Now I want to have a veryserious chat with you."
"I wish to say nothing to you, sir," she replied drawing herself uphaughtily, the train of her pretty gown sweeping the floor. "I onlydemand to know what you are doing here, reading my father's papers."
"And suppose I refuse to tell you--eh?" he asked, raising his brows.
"Then I shall scream, and alarm the household. They will hand you overto the police."
"And if you were so ill-advised as to do that, Miss Griffin," answeredthe fellow impudently, advancing a step nearer to her, and lookingstraight into her face. "Well--you would suffer very severely for it.That's all."
"I'm prepared to take all the consequences," was her calm reply.
"Take care!" he said threateningly, in a low hoarse voice. "I'm adesperate man when driven into a corner."
"You mean rather that you're a coward when cornered," she said coldly."I am glad to have this opportunity of meeting, in order to repay youfor the gross injustice which you have done me."
"You're a little fool!" he said in a hard tone. "Keep quiet, orsomebody will hear you."
"You entrapped me in that place. I have now entrapped you--in my ownhouse," she exclaimed, with a look of triumph.
"Not for long," he said determinedly. "Do you know that I couldstrangle you where you stand, and still get clear. Even though youscreamed. I already have a rope on the balcony yonder, down into thestreet. But don't be alarmed. I have no wish to injure y
ou, my dearlittle girl--not in the least. We will just make an arrangement, andcry quits."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, listen. You've discovered me here, and you could give me away.But I want to buy your silence."
"Buy my silence!" she exclaimed, staring at him. "Yes. Why not? Youmust buy mine. Shall we not then be quits?"
She regarded him with a puzzled air. He was her bitterest foe, and shewas wondering what was the true meaning of the suggestion. She wasundecided, too, whether not to alarm the house, instead of parleyingfurther. She had caught the fellow in her father's room wearing theapparel of the modern burglar, therefore the police would, withoutdoubt, arrest him as such.
Suddenly her mind was made up,