CHAPTER XXIII
WHICH SHOWS A SHABBY FOREIGNER
Felix Krail, his cigarette held half-way to his lips, stood watching theeffect of his insinuation. He saw a faint smile playing about Flockart'slips, and knew that it appealed to him. Old Sir Henry Heyburn had laid aclever trap for him, a trap into which he himself believed that hisdaughter had fallen. Why should not Flockart retaliate?
The shabby stranger, whose own ingenuity and double-dealing were littleshort of marvellous, and under whose watchful vigilance the Heyburnhousehold had been ever since her ladyship and her friend Flockart hadgone south, stood silent, but in complete satisfaction.
The well-dressed Riviera-lounger--the man so well known at all thevarious gay resorts from Ventimiglia along to Cannes, and who was amember of the Fetes Committee at San Remo and at Nice--merely exchangedglances with his friend and smiled. Quickly, however, he changed thetopic of conversation. "And what's occurring in Paris?"
"Ah, there we have the puzzle!" replied the man Krail, his accent beingan unfamiliar one--so unfamiliar, indeed, that those unacquainted withthe truth were always placed in doubt regarding his true nationality.
"But you've made inquiry?" asked his friend quickly.
"Of course; but the business is kept far too close. Every precaution istaken to prevent anything leaking out," Krail responded.
"The clerks will speak, won't they?" the other said.
"_Mon cher ami_, they know no more of the business of the mysteriousfirm of which the blind Baronet is the head than we do ourselves," saidKrail.
"They make enormous financial deals, that's very certain."
"Not deals--but _coups_ for themselves," he laughed, correctingFlockart. "Recollect what I discovered in Athens, and the extraordinaryconnection you found in Brussels."
"Ah, yes. You mean that clever crowd--four men and two women who wereworking the gambling concession from the Dutch Government!" exclaimedFlockart. "Yes, that was a complete mystery. They sent wires in cipherto Sir Henry at Glencardine. I managed to get a glance at one of them,and it was signed 'Metaforos.'"
"That's their Paris cable address," said his companion.
"Surely you, with your network of sources of information, and your owngenius for discovering secrets, ought to be able to reveal the truenature of Sir Henry's business. Is it an honest one?" asked Flockart.
"I think not."
"Think! Why, my dear Felix, this isn't like you only to think; youalways _know_. You're so certain of your facts that I've always bankedupon them."
The other gave his shoulders a shrug of indecision. "It was not ajudicious move on your part to get rid of the girl from Glencardine," hesaid slowly. "While she was there we had a chance of getting at someclue. But now old Goslin has taken her place we may just as well abandoninvestigation at that end."
"You've failed, Krail, and attribute your failure to me," protested hiscompanion. "How could I risk being ignominiously kicked out ofGlencardine as a spy?"
"Whatever attitude you might have taken would have had the same result.We used the information, and found ourselves fooled--tricked by a verycrafty old man, who actually prepared those documents in case he wasbetrayed."
"Admitted," said Flockart. "But even though we made fools of ourselvesin Athens, and caused the Greek Government to look upon us as rogues andliars, the girl is suspected; and I for one don't mean to give in beforewe've secured a nice, snug little sum."
"How are we to do it?"
"By obtaining knowledge of the game being played in Paris, and workingin an opposite direction," Flockart replied. "We are agreed upon onepoint: that for the past few years, ever since Goslin came on the scene,Sir Henry's business--a big one, there is no doubt--has been of amysterious and therefore shady character. By his confidence inGabrielle, his care that nobody ever got a chance inside that safe, hisregular consultations with Goslin (who travelled from Paris specially tosee him), his constant telegrams in cipher, and his refusal to alloweven his wife to obtain the slightest inkling into his private affairs,it is shown that he fears exposure. Do you agree?"
"Most certainly I do."
"Well, any man who is in dread of the truth becoming known must becarrying on some negotiations the reverse of creditable. He is themoving spirit of that shady house, without a doubt," declared Flockart,who had so often grasped the blind man's hand in friendship. "In suchfear that his transactions should become known, and that exposure mightresult, he actually had prepared documents on purpose to mislead thosewho pried into his affairs. Therefore, the instant we discover thetruth, fortune will be at our hand. We all want money, you, I, and LadyHeyburn--and money we'll have."
"With these sentiments, my dear friend, I entirely and absolutelyagree," remarked the shabby man, lighting a fresh cigarette. "But onefact you seem to have entirely overlooked."
"What?"
"The girl. She stands between you, and she might come back into the oldman's favour, you know."
"And even though she did, that makes no difference," Flockart answereddefiantly.
"Why?"
"Because she dare not say a single word against me."
Krail looked him straight in the face with considerable surprise, butmade no comment.
"She knows better," Flockart added.
"Never believe too much in your own power with a woman, _mon cher ami_,"remarked the other dubiously. "She's young, therefore of a romantic turnof mind. She's in love, remember, which makes matters much worse forus."
"Why?"
"Because, being in love, she may become seized with a sentimental fit.This ends generally in a determination of self-sacrifice; and in suchcase she would tell the truth in defiance of you, and would be heedlessof her own danger."
Flockart drew a long breath. What this man said was, he knew within hisown heart, only too true of the girl towards whom they had been so crueland so unscrupulous. His had been a lifelong scheme, and as part of hisscheme in conjunction with the woman who was Sir Henry's wife, it hadbeen unfortunately compulsory to sacrifice the girl who was the blindman's right hand.
Yes, Gabrielle was deeply in love with Walter Murie--the man upon whomSir Henry now looked as his enemy, and who would have exposed him to theGreek Government if the blind man had not been too clever. The Baronet,after his daughter's confession, naturally attributed her curiosity toWalter's initiative, the more especially that Walter had been in Paris,and, it was believed, in Athens also.
The pair were, however, now separated. Krail, in pursuit of his diligentinquiries, had actually been in Woodnewton, and seen the lonely littlefigure, sad and dejected, taking long rambles accompanied only by afarmer's sheep-dog. Young Murie had not been there; nor did the pair nowcorrespond. This much Krail had himself discovered.
The problem placed before Flockart by his shabby friend was a somewhatdisconcerting one. On the one hand, Lady Heyburn had urged him to leavethe Riviera, without giving him any reason, and on the other, he had theever-present danger of Gabrielle, in a sudden fit of sentimentalself-sacrifice, "giving him away." If she did, what then? The meresuggestion caused him to bite his nether lip.
Krail knew a good deal, but he did not know all. Perhaps it was as wellthat he did not. There is a code of honour among adventurers all theworld over; but few of them can resist the practice of blackmail whenthey chance to fall upon evil days.
"Yes," Flockart said reflectively, as at Krail's suggestion they turnedand began to descend the steep hill towards Ospedaletti, "perhaps it's apity, after all, that the girl left Glencardine. Yet surely she's saferwith her aunt?"
"She was driven from Glencardine!"
"By her father."
"You sacrificed her in order to save yourself. That was but natural.It's a pity, however, you didn't take my advice."
"I suggested it to Lady Heyburn. But she would have nothing to do withit. She declared that such a course was far too dangerous."
"Dangerous!" echoed the shabby man. "Surely it could not have placedeither of you in
any greater danger than you are in already?"
"She didn't like it."
"Few people do," laughed the other. "But, depend upon it, it's the onlyway. She wouldn't, at any rate, have had an opportunity of telling thetruth."
Flockart pulled a wry face, and after a silence of a few moments said,"Don't let us discuss that. We fully considered all the pros and cons,at the time."
"Her ladyship is growing scrupulously honest of late," sneered hiscompanion. "She'll try to get rid of you very soon, I expect."
The latter sentence was more full of meaning than the speaker dreamed.The words, falling upon Flockart's ears, caused him to wince. Was herladyship really trying to rid herself of his influence? He laughedwithin himself at the thought of her endeavouring to release herselffrom the bond. For her he had never, at any moment, entertained eitheradmiration or affection. Their association had always been purely one ofbusiness--business, be it said, in which he made the profits and she thelosses.
"It would hardly be an easy matter for her," replied the easy-going,audacious adventurer.
"She seems to be very popular up at Glencardine," remarked theforeigner, "because she's extravagant and spends money in theneighbourhood, I suppose. But the people in Auchterarder villagecriticise her treatment of Gabrielle. They hear gossip from theservants, I expect."
"They should know of the girl's treatment of her stepmother," exclaimedFlockart. "But there, villagers are always prone to listen to andembroider any stories concerning the private life of the gentry. It'sjust the same in Scotland as in any other country in the world."
"Ah!" continued Flockart, "in Scotland the old families are graduallydecaying, and their estates are falling into the hands of blatantparvenus. Counter-jumpers stalk deer nowadays, and city clerks on theirholidays shoot over peers' preserves. The humble Scot sees it all withregret, because he has no real liking for this latter-day invasion bythe newly-rich English. Cotton-spinners from Lancashire buydeer-forests, and soap-boilers from Limehouse purchase castles withfamily portraits and ghosts complete."
"Ah! speaking of the supernatural," exclaimed Krail suddenly, "do youknow I had a most extraordinary and weird experience when at Glencardineabout three weeks ago. I actually heard the Whispers!"
Flockart stared hard at the man at his side, and, laughing outright,said, "Well, that's the best joke I've heard to-day. You, of all men, tobe taken in by a mere superstition."
"But, my dear friend, I heard them," said Krail. "I swear I actuallyheard them! And I--well, I admit to you, even though you may laugh at mefor being a superstitious fool--I somehow anticipate that somethinguncanny is about to happen to me."
"You're going to die, like all the rest of them, I suppose," laughed hisfriend, as they descended the dusty, winding road that led to thepalm-lined promenade of the quiet little Mediterranean watering-place.