CHAPTER XXIV
RUXTON ARRIVES AT A GREAT DECISION
Ruxton spent another long day and night travelling. He reached Londonand Smith Square in a fog, which by no means helped to lighten hismood. He visited Scotland Yard, where he spent an hour in closeconsultation, and when he departed thence for Buckinghamshire he wasaccompanied by a prominent officer. He spent several hours atWednesford and Redwithy, and finally returned again to town.
His movements were made with a complete disregard for himself. Weary?Depressed and worn out, he admitted to himself he had no time forweariness. He was obsessed by one thought now, one thought whichdominated all others. He had lost Vita. She seemed to be passingcompletely and finally out of his life.
On his return to Smith Square he spent the long evening alone. He wouldsee nobody. He would transact no business, and the faithful Heathcotewas distressed, he even protested. But for once the usual amenabilityof his friend and employer was lost amidst a jarring irritability, andthe secretary was forced to leave him to his ungracious solitude.
During that long evening alone Ruxton endured a series of mentaltortures such as only the imaginative can ever be called upon toendure. Every conceivable aspect of the situation arose before hismind's eye, clad in the drab of hopelessness, until it seemed therecould be no possible place for one single gleam of promise. Many ofthese pictures were based upon the insidious doubts which never fail toattack those in the throes of a consuming passion such as his.
At one moment he saw, in the disaster which had befallen him, theduplicity of a woman whose love has no depth, whose love is the meresuperficial attraction of the moment, and which, under givenconditions, can be flung aside as a thing of no consequence, no value.Following upon each such accusation came denial--simple, swift,emphatic denial, as he remembered the treasured moments in the littleflat in Kensington; as he remembered the woman of the Yorkshire cliffs;the woman whose shining eyes had revealed the mother soul within her asshe appealed for the great world of humanity with passionate denial ofself. Doubts of her could not remain behind such memories. It was likedoubting the rise of the morrow's sun.
Then, too, the simplicity of his own loyalty, apart from all reason,denied for him. It was the simple psychology of the devoted Slav in himbattling and defeating the more acrimonious and fault-finding nature ofhis insular forebears.
There was reason enough for his doubts. He knew that. The steadybalance of reason was markedly his, and once, after a feverishstruggle, he allowed himself to give it play, and sought to review thecase as might a prosecuting counsel.
The salient points of the situation were so marked that they could notbe missed. Vita had gone to Redwithy in a fever of anticipation, withassurances of devotion to him upon her beautiful lips, to await amessage from him of her father's safety. That message is dulydispatched. It reaches its destination. It is opened by some one andcarefully re-sealed. Vita sends no acknowledgment. Later it isdiscovered that Vita has left Redwithy, almost on the moment of herarrival at her home, since when she has not returned. Apparently hergoing is voluntary.
On the face of it, it would appear that she has not received themessage. But subsequently she proves, by writing to her father, thatshe is aware of his safe arrival, which is the news contained in hismessage. Furthermore, she addresses her letter from Redwithy, as thoughshe desires him to communicate with her at that place. All these factsare so definite that the reasonable conclusion is that Vita haswilfully endeavored to hide herself from him--Ruxton.
That, he told himself, was the cold logic of it.
Then, even as he arrived at the conclusion, a hot passion of denialleapt. It was wrong, wrong. He could stake his soul on it it was wrong.Logic? Argument? Reason? They were all fallible; fallible as--as hell.Anyway, they were in this case, he moodily assured himself. Vita wasabove all such petty trickery. So contemptible a conclusion was aninsult to a pure, brave, beautiful soul. It belonged to the gutter inwhich, he told himself, he was floundering.
There must be another reply to every question which the evidence openedup. What was the other view of it? He leapt back at once to his firstinspiration. Treachery--treachery of the enemy. His first prompting hadbeen that Vita had fallen into their hands. How, then, could this bemade to fit in with the letter Prince von Hertzwohl had received fromhis daughter? At the first consideration it seemed that such fitmentbecame impossible.
But he attacked it; he attacked it with all the vigor and imaginationof a keen, resolute brain, backed by the passionate yearning of hissoul. But dark mists of confusion obscured the light he sought--mistsof confusion and seeming impossibility through which he must grope andflounder his way.
For a long time there seemed no promise. A dozen times hope fellheadlong and died the death. But with each rebuff he started afresh atthe given point that--Vita was in enemy hands, whose will she wasforced to obey.
After long hours of defeat his efforts wearied. His power ofconcentration lessened. He found himself repeating over and over againhis formula without advancing one single step. Bodily fatigue washelping to oppress his mental faculties. He was growing sleepy. Againand again he strove to rouse himself. But the net results of his effortwas a continuation of the idiotic repetition of his formula.
He was not really aware of these things. Mental and bodily wearinesshad completely supervened. Another few minutes and---- But somethinggalvanized him into complete wakefulness. His weariness fell from him,and he started up in his chair alert--vigorously alert. By someextraordinary subconscious effort he had become aware that his formulahad changed. He was no longer repeating it in full--only the latterportion of it: "Whose will she is forced to obey." And as he thought ofthem now the words rang with a new and powerful significance.
It was the spark of light he had so long sought, and it had leapt outat him from amidst the deep mists of confusion.
So it was that when eleven o'clock came, and the hall gong clangedbelow, Ruxton went himself to admit his visitor from Scotland Yard. Hiswhole aspect had completely changed from the dispirited creature whohad curtly refused to consider matters which Heathcote had placedbefore him some hours previously.
Inspector Purdic was a smiling, dark man of athletic build and decidedmanner. He was by no means of senior rank in his profession. But hisreputation was unique amongst his colleagues. It was said of him thathis record could be divided into two parts, as everybody else's could,but with this difference: his failures came during his early days ofinexperience, and could be marked off with a sharp line of division.Beneath that line was nothing but a list of successes.
The officer's manner was deferential. He had had to deal with many menof considerable position. But this was the first time he had beenbrought into contact with a Cabinet Minister, even of junior rank.
He felt that it was a fresh step up the ladder he had set for his ownclimbing. He had made his visit there late in the hope that the CabinetMinister might be induced to give him a protracted and uninterruptedinterview, and was pleasantly surprised at the manner in which hisexplanation was received.
"You see, sir," he said, "it's always a difficulty with us, dealingwith a busy public man. So I took a chance, because there's got to be alot of close talk done."
But Ruxton denied the need for apology.
"As a matter of fact I'm glad you've called--now. If it had beenearlier I should not have been so pleased." He laughed, and the smilingeyes of the officer noted the laugh carefully.
"That's all right then, sir."
The two men passed up-stairs to Ruxton's study, and, while he revelledin the enjoyment of one of his host's best cigars, Purdic bluntly setout the objects he sought in this late visit.
"Now, Mr. Farlow," he began, "we've been on this thing some days now,and we're still groping around like a pair of babes in the wood. We'velocated a few bits. We've discovered certain suspicious circumstances,but nothing's led anywhere, and we're just as far off finding thisPrincess as if we were dodging icebergs up around the Pole. And d
o youknow why, sir?"
Ruxton was not without ideas on the subject, but he nevertheless shookhis head.
"No," he said. He was lounging in the chair which had claimed himnearly all the evening.
The other cleared his throat.
"Because you've set up a brick wall between me and the job you've setme at. The wall's high and thick, and it's plastered with Governmentpolitical secrecy. You mustn't mind my speaking this way, sir. You see,you want certain work done, and I want to do it. But miracles don'tconcern me, and that's what you're asking of me, unless you break downthat wall. With due respect, sir, it's no use asking men of myprofession to disentangle a skein of fine thread and refuse to let 'emhandle the skein. It can't be done; that's all."
Ruxton nodded, and the man with the smiling face went on.
"I want to know what lies behind, sir. That's what I've come here forto-night. You'll either tell me, or you won't. You are the best judgeof what is at stake, and whether you are justified in disclosingsecrets in the hope of discovering the whereabouts of the Princess. Thequestion is, is the discovery of her worth the risk? From the moment Ibegan on this I saw the direction things were taking. Now, this manVassilitz is a foreigner. All the servants at Redwithy are foreigners.The lady herself is a foreign--princess. Her record during the wartells of her Polish origin. There were three Polands: Russian, Austrianand German. She claimed Russian, and was known by a Russian-soundingname. Her title sounds German. That's all the history of her I havegot. But if I'm any judge there's a lot more, and in that additionalhistory lies the secret of her present disappearance. Well, sir, that'smy case, and I put it to you. If you cannot see your way to telling meanything more, I can hold out very little hope. I shall naturallycontinue to work the matter, but----"
The man was still smiling his involuntary smile, which was due to acurious facial formation. Nor could Ruxton help realizing the perfectmask it became. But his demands were startling and a littledisconcerting. He rose from his chair and began to pace the room, hispreoccupation finding expression in the gnawing of one of hisfinger-nails.
The other watched him through the veil of smoke which hung upon thewarm air of the room. Finally he came to a halt on the rug before thefire.
"Yes, it's political," he admitted. Then, with a curious upward jerk ofhis head, and a hot light in his dark eyes: "Damnably political--andsecret."
"Yes?"
Ruxton laughed.
"You want more; much more. You want it all." He shook his head. "Butyou can't have it. That's been the devil of it, eh? No, I can't tellyou all you want to know. But I can tell you this much. It's yourbrains--our brains against all the arch-devilry of the GermanGovernment, backed by no less a person than the----"
The detective gave a long, low whistle.
"It's as serious as that?" He stirred in his chair.
"Serious? It's likely to involve the death of anybody concerned. Notonly the victims of these machinations, but of those who interfere ontheir behalf. There, that's all I can say of what lies behind, and youmust be satisfied, or pretend to be. Meanwhile I can tell you somethingwhich is going to be helpful to us, which I couldn't have told you ifyou had paid your visit an hour or so earlier. I have discovered ameans by which I fancy the Princess can be rescued from these Germandemons."
Ruxton turned, and again flung himself into his chair. He was smilingwith confidence and hope. The officer insinuated his chair nearer andwaited. Every faculty was alert. The other took no notice of hismovements. He was absorbed in his own thoughts. He had taken a greatdecision, and all his imaginative faculties were at work piecingtogether the pictured details.
The officer coughed. The long pause was becoming too extended for hispatience. Ruxton started. He looked round and smiled.
"Listen to this," he said, "and tell me what you think."
It was well past midnight when Detective-Inspector Purdic rose to takehis departure. The automatic smile on his face had broadenednoticeably, and Ruxton felt that now, at least, it was inspired. He,too, was smiling. His own decision had met with something more thanapproval from the professional. The man had caught something of thequiet daring of the brain which had been keen enough to penetrate themeaning of certain obscure signs, and reckless enough to evolve a planof action which promised a possibility of defeating all the trickeryagainst which they were pitted.
Furthermore, the officer had been able to point certain vital matters,and offer suggestions in several directions of importance out of hislong experience. Between them they had matured carefully, and placed inconcrete form, a plan which, under any other conditions of a less gravenature, must have appeared the veriest of forlorn hopes, and whicheither of them would certainly have classed amongst the schemes of themost advanced cases confined within the four walls of a lunatic asylum.
"I'm glad I came, sir," said the officer, in his blunt fashion. "I hadmy doubts about it. It didn't seem to offer much hope, seeing I wasdealing with a Cabinet Minister who hadn't seen his way, so far, toopening out on official secrets of his own accord; and on that score, Iadmit, it was no use. But you've done better than that, sir. You'vetaught me something which twenty years of my own business wasn't ableto teach me--and it's in my own line, too. I sort of feel, sir, someone's going to wake up with a horrid start, and--it won't be us.Good-night, sir, and thank you. I'll set everything in train withoutdelay. I shall take the five men I mentioned with me when I go northto-morrow, and look to the local police for any other force we mayneed."
"Good." Ruxton shook him by the hand. "I'll see to the other side of itin--my own way. Good-night, and thank you for coming."