*CHAPTER V*
*CONTAINS A NOTE OF ALARM*
Ena Pollen was on the platform when the dusty night express from Londonran slowly into the Caledonian Station, at Glasgow.
Bernard Boyne, erect and smartly-dressed, stepped out quickly from thesleeping-car, to be greeted by her almost immediately.
"What's happened?" she demanded anxiously beneath her breath.
"I can't tell you here, Ena. Wait till we're in the hotel," he replied.She saw by his countenance that something was amiss.
Together they walked from the platform into the hotel, and havingascended in the lift to her private sitting-room, the man flung himselfinto a chair, and said:
"A very perilous situation has arisen regarding the Martin affair!"
"The Martin affair!" she gasped, instantly pale to the lips. "I alwaysfeared it. That girl, Celine Tenot, had some suspicion, I believe."
"Exactly. She was your maid, and you parted bad friends. It wasinjudicious."
"Where is she now, I wonder?"
"At her home in Melun, near Paris. You must go at once to Paris, andask her to meet you," Boyne said.
"To Paris?" she cried in dismay.
"Yes; not a second must be lost. Inquiries are on foot. I discoveredthe situation yesterday, quite by accident."
"Inquiries!" she cried. "Who can be making inquiries?"
"Some friend of that girl--a Frenchman. He has come over here to findme."
"To find you! But she only knew you under the name of Bennett!"
"Exactly. In that is our salvation," he said, with a grin. "But theaffair is distinctly serious unless we can make peace with Celine, andat the same time make it worth her while to withdraw this inquiry. Nodoubt she's looking forward to a big reward for furnishing information."
"But why can't we give her the reward--eh?" asked the shrewd, red-hairedwoman quickly.
"That's exactly my argument. That is why you must leave this presentlittle matter, turn back to Celine, and make it right with her."
"How much do you think it will cost?"
Bernard Boyne shrugged his shoulders.
"Whatever it is, we must pay," he replied. "We can't afford for thisgirl to remain an enemy--and yours especially."
"Of course not," Ena agreed. "What is her address?"
Boyne took a slip of paper from his pocket-book and handed it to thehandsome woman.
"But what excuse can I possibly make for approaching her?" she askedbewildered.
"Pretend you've come to Paris to offer to take her into your serviceagain," Boyne suggested. "She will then meet you, and you can expressregret that you sent her away so suddenly, and offer to makereparation--and all that."
"There was an object in sending her away so peremptorily. You know whatit was, Bernie."
"I know, of course. She might have discovered something then. Youadopted the only course--but, unfortunately, it has turned out to havebeen a most injudicious one, which may, if we are not very careful anddon't act at once, lead to the exposure of a very nastycircumstance--the affair of old Martin."
"I quite see," she said. "I'll go to Paris without delay."
"You'll stay at the Bristol, as before, I suppose?"
"Yes. I will ask her to come and see me there."
Boyne hesitated.
"No. I don't know whether it would not be better for you to go out toMelun for the day and find her there," he queried. "Remember, you musthandle the affair with the greatest delicacy. You've practically got topay her for blackmail which she has not sought."
"That's the difficulty. And the sum must be equal, if not more, to thatwhich she and her French friend who has come over here to seek andidentify you hope to get out of it by their disclosures. Oh! yes," shesaid, "I quite see it all."
"I admit that the situation which has arisen is full of peril, Ena,"remarked the man seated before her, "but you are a clever woman, andwith the exercise of tact and cunning, in addition to the disbursementof funds, we shall undoubtedly be able to wriggle out--as we always do."
"Let's hope so," she said, with a sigh. "But what about Ardlui and Mrs.Morrison?"
"Your visit to Paris is more important at the moment. You must lose notime in getting there. Before I left London, I instructed my bank tosend five thousand pounds to you at the head office of the CreditLyonnais. You will be able to draw at once when you get there, and itwill give you time to get more money if you deem it wise to pay anybigger sum."
"Really, you leave nothing undone, Bernie.
"Not when danger arises, my dear Ena," he laughed. "In the meantime,I'll have to remain very low. That infernal Frenchman may be watchingLilla with the idea that I might visit Pont Street. But I shan't go nearher again till the danger is past."
"Then I'd better get away as soon as possible," she said. "I can be inLondon this evening, and cross to Paris by the night mail."
"Yes," he replied. "Don't waste an instant in getting in touch withher. Have a rest in Paris, and then go to Melun. You can be thereto-morrow afternoon."
"Shall you go back to London with me?"
"No. Better not be seen together," he said. "Let us be discreet. Youcan go by the ten o'clock express, which will just give you time tocross London to Victoria and catch the boat train, and I'll leave by thenext express, which goes at one. The less we are together at present thebetter."
"I agree entirely," Ena said, with a sigh. "But this affair will, Isee, be very difficult to adjust."
"Not if you keep your wits about you, Ena," he assured her. "It isn'thalf so difficult as the arrangements you made with that pious oldfellow Fleming. Don't you recollect how very near the wind we were allsailing, and yet you took him in hand and convinced him of yourinnocence."
"I was dealing with a man then," she remarked. "Now I have to deal witha shrewd girl. Besides, we don't know who this inquisitive Frenchmanmay be."
"You'll soon discover all about him, no doubt. Just put on yourthinking-cap on the way over to Paris, and doubtless before you arrive,you'll hit upon some plan which will be just as successful as theattitude you adopted towards old Daniel Fleming." Then he added: "Iwish you'd order breakfast to be served up here, for I'm ravenouslyhungry."
She rose, rang the bell, and ordered breakfast for two.
While it was being prepared, Boyne went along the corridor to wash,while Ena retired to her room, and packed her trunk ready for herdeparture south at ten o'clock.
Afterwards she saw the head porter and got him to secure her a place onthe train, and also in the restaurant-car, which is usually crowded.
They breakfasted _tete-a-tete_, after which she paid her bill, and atten o'clock left him standing upon the platform to idle away three hourswandering about the crowded Glasgow streets before his departure at oneo'clock.
Next morning Ena Pollen took her dejeuner at half-past eleven in theelegant table d'hote room of the aristocratic Hotel Bristol, in Paris, abig white salon which overlooks the Place Vendome. Afterwards she tooka taxi to the Gare de Lyon, whence she travelled to Melun, thirty milesdistant--that town from which come the Brie cheeses. On arrival, sheinquired for the Boulevard Victor Hugo, and an open cab drove her awayacross the little island in the Seine, past the old church of St.Aspais, to a point where, in the boulevard, stood a monument to thegreat savant, Pasteur. The cab pulled up opposite the monument, where,alighting, Ena found herself before a large four-storied house, theground floor of which was occupied by a tobacconist and a shop whichsold comestibles.
Of the old bespectacled concierge who was cobbling boots in the entranceshe inquired for Madame Tenot, and his gruff reply was:
"Au troisieme, a gauche."
So, mounting the stone steps, she found the left-hand door on the thirdfloor, and rang the bell.
The door opened, and the good-looking young French girl, who had beenher maid for six months at Brighton, confronted her.
"Well, Celi
ne!" exclaimed Ena merrily in French. "You didn't expect tosee me--did you?"
The girl stood aghast and open-mouthed.
"_Dieu_! Madame!" she gasped. "I--I certainly did not!"
"Well, I chanced to be passing through Melun, and I thought I would callupon you."
The girl stood in the doorway, apparently disinclined to invite her latemistress into the small flat which she and her mother, the widow of thelocal postmaster, occupied.
"I wrote to you, Madame, two months ago--but you never replied!"
"I have never had any letter from you, Celine," Ena declared. "But mayI not come in for a moment to have a chat with you? Ah! but perhaps youhave visitors?"
"No, Madame," was her reply; "I am alone. My mother went to my aunt's,at Provins, this morning."
"Good! Then I may come in?"
"If Madame wishes," she said, still with some reluctance, and led theway to a small, rather sparsely-furnished salon, which overlooked thecobbled street below.
"I have been staying a few days at Marlotte, and am now on my way backto Paris," said her former mistress, seating herself in a chair."Besides, I wanted particularly to see you, Celine, for several reasons.I feel somehow that--well, that I have not treated you as I really oughtto have done. I dismissed you abruptly after poor Mr. Martin's death.But I was so very upset--I was not actually myself. I know I ought notto have done what I did. Please forgive me."
The dark-haired, good-looking young girl in well-cut black skirt andcotton blouse merely shrugged her well-shaped shoulders. She uttered noword. Indeed, she had not yet recovered from her surprise at the suddenappearance of her former mistress.
"I don't know what you must have thought of me, Celine," Ena added.
"I thought many things of Madame," the girl admitted.
"Naturally. You must have thought me most ungrateful, after all theservices you had rendered me, often without reward," remarked thered-haired widow. "But I assure you that I am not ungrateful."
The girl only smiled. She recollected the manner in which she had beensuddenly dismissed and sent out from the house at five minutes'notice--and for no fault that she could discover.
She recollected how Madame had two friends, an old man named Martin, anda younger one named Bennett. Mr. Martin, who was a wealthy bachelor,living in Chiswick, had suddenly contracted typhoid and died. Madame,who had been most grief-stricken, received a visit from Bennett nextday, and she had overheard the pair in conversation in the drawing-room.That conversation had been of a most curious character, but its trueimport had never occurred to her at the time. Next day her mistress hadsummarily dismissed her, giving her a month's wages, and requesting herto leave instantly. This she had done, and returned to her home inFrance.
It was not until nearly two months later that she realised the grimtruth. The strange words of Mr. Bennett, as she recollected them,utterly staggered her.
And now this woman's sudden appearance had filled her with curiosity.
"Your action in sending me away in the manner you did certainly did notbetray any sense of gratitude, Madame," the girl said quite coolly.
"No, no, Celine! Do forgive me," she urged. "Poor Mr. Martin was a veryold friend, and his death greatly perturbed me."
Celine, however, remembered how to the man Bennett she had in confidenceexpressed the greatest satisfaction that the old man had died.
Ena was, of course, entirely ignorant of how much of that conversationthe girl had overheard or understood. Indeed, she had not been quitecertain it the girl had heard anything. She had dismissed her for quiteanother reason--in order that, if inquiries were made, a friendshipbetween Bernard Boyne and the dead man could not be established. Celinewas the only person aware of it, hence she constituted a grave danger.
Ena used all her charm and her powers of persuasion over the girl, andas she sat chatting with her, she recalled many incidents while the girlwas in her service.
"Now look here, Celine," she said at last. "I'll be perfectly frankwith you. I've come to ask you if you'll let bygones be bygones, andreturn to me?"
The girl, much surprised at the offer, hesitated for a moment, and thenreplied:
"I regret, Madame, it is quite impossible. I cannot return to London."
That was exactly the reply for which the clever woman wished.
"Why not, pray?" she asked the girl in a tone of regret.
"Because the man to whom I am betrothed would not allow me," was herreply.
"Oh! Then you are engaged, Celine! Happy girl! I congratulate youmost heartily. And who is the happy man?"
"Henri Galtier."
"And what is his profession?"
"He is employed in the Mairie, at Chantilly," was her reply.
"He is at Chantilly now?"
The girl again hesitated. Then she replied:
"No--he is in London."
Ena held her breath. It was evidently the man to whom Celine wasengaged who was in London in search of Richard Bennett. Next second sherecovered from her excitement at her success in making the discovery.
"In London? Is he employed there?"
"Yes--temporarily," she answered.
"And when are you to marry?"
"In December--we hope."
"Ah! Then, much as I regret it, I quite understand that you cannotreturn to me, Celine," exclaimed Ena. "Does Monsieur Galtier speakEnglish?"
"Yes; very well, Madame. He was born in London, and lived there untilhe was eighteen."
"Oh, well, of course he would speak our language excellently. Butthough you will no doubt both be happy in the near future, I myself amnot at all satisfied with my own conduct towards you. I've treated youbadly; I feel that in some way or other I ought to put myself right withyou. I never like a servant to speak badly of me."
"I do not speak badly of Madame," responded the girl, wondering whether,after all, her late mistress suspected her of overhearing that startlingconversation late on the night following Mr. Martin's death.
Ena hesitated a moment, and then determined to act boldly, and said:
"Now Celine, let us be quite frank. I happen know that you have saidsome very nasty and things about me--wicked things, indeed. I heardthat you have made a very serious allegation against me, and----"
"But, Madame! I----!" cried the girl, interrupting.
"Now you cannot deny it, Celine. You have said those things because youhave sadly misjudged me. But I know it is my own fault, and the reason Iam here in Melun is to put matters right--and to show you that I bearyou no ill will."
"I know that, Madame," she said. "Your words are sufficient proof ofit."
"But, on the contrary, you are antagonistic--bitterly antagonistictowards myself--and"--she added slowly, looking straight into the girl'sface--"and also towards Mr. Bennett."
She started, looking sharply at the red-haired widow.
"Yes, I repeat it, Celine!" Ena went on. "You see I know the truth!Yet your feeling against Mr. Bennett does not matter to him in theleast, because he died a month ago--of influenza."
"Mr. Bennett dead!" echoed the girl, standing aghast, for, as a matterof fact, her lover, Henri Galtier, was searching for him in London.
"Yes; the poor fellow went to Birmingham on business, took influenza,and died there a week later. Is it not sad?"
"Very," the girl agreed, staring straight before her. If Bennett weredead, then of what avail would be all her efforts to probe the mysteryof Mr. Martin's death?
"Mr. Bennett was always generous to you--was he not?" asked Ena.
"Always," replied the girl. "I am very sorry he is dead!"
"Well, he is, and therefore whatever hatred you may have conceived forhim is of no importance," she replied; and then adroitly turned theconversation to another subject.
At length, however, she returned to Celine's approaching marriage,expressing a hope that she would be very comfortably off.
"Has Monsieur Galtier money?"
"Not very m
uch," she replied. "But we shall be quite happynevertheless."
"Of course. Money does not always mean happiness. I am glad you viewmatters in that light, Celine," Ena said. "Yet, on the other hand,money contributes to luxury, and luxury, in most cases, meanshappiness."
"True, Madame, I believe so," replied the ex-maid, whose thoughts were,however, filled by what her late mistress had, apparently in allinnocence, told her, namely, that Bennett, the man her lover meant tohunt down, was dead. She had no reason to doubt what Mrs. Pollen hadsaid, for only on the previous day Henri had written her to say that hisinquiries had had no result, and that he believed that the man Bennettmust be dead, as he could obtain no trace of him. The reward which theyhoped to gain from the insurance company when they had establishedBennett's identity had therefore vanished into air.
Celine Tenot sat bewildered and disappointed, and the clever womanseated with her read her thoughts as she would have read a book.
"Now let's come to the point," she said, after a pause. "I want to makeamends, Celine. I want you to think better of me, and for that purpose,I want to render you some little service, now that you are to marry. Mydesire is to remove from your mind any antagonism you may entertaintowards myself. The best way in which I can do that is to make you alittle wedding-present--something useful."
"Oh, Madame!" she cried. "I--I really want nothing!"
"But I insist, Celine!" replied the wealthy widow. "Poor Mr. Bennettremarked that I was very harsh in dismissing you. At the time I did notthink so, but I now realise that the fault was on my side, therefore Ishall give you thirty thousand francs to put by as a little nest-egg."
"But, Madame, I could not really accept it!" declared the girl,exhibiting her palms.
"I have an account at the Credit Lyonnais, and to-morrow I shall placethe thirty thousand francs there in your name," said Mrs. Pollen. "Ishall want you to come to Paris--to the Hotel Bristol--so that we can goto the bank together, and you can there open an account and give themyour signature. If I were you, I would say nothing whatever to MonsieurGaltier about it--or even tell him of my visit. Just keep the money foryourself--as a little present from one who, after all, greatly valuedyour services."
Though the girl pretended to be entirely against receiving any present,yet she realised that possession of such a respectable sum would be ableto assist in preparing her new home. After all, it was most generous ofMadame. Yes! she had sadly misjudged her, she reflected, after Mrs.Pollen had left. So, adopting her late mistress's suggestion, sherefrained from telling her mother of the unexpected visit.
That night she wrote to Galtier, who was staying in a boarding-house inBloomsbury, telling him that she had heard of the death of Bennett, butnot revealing the source of her information. She therefore suggestedthat he should spend no further time or money on the inquiry, but returnat once to his duties at Chantilly.
Next day Celine called at the Hotel Bristol, when mistress and maid wenttogether to the bank in the Boulevard des Italians, and there the girlreceived the handsome present. After this, she returned much gratifiedto Melun, while her late mistress left Paris that same night for London.
She had cleverly gained the girl's complete confidence, therebypreventing any further inquiry into the curious circumstances attendingthe death of Mr. Martin, of Chiswick.