Read The Sign of the Stranger Page 11

longreflections.

  I was puzzled. I could not well approach the detective without makingsome explanation of who I was, and by doing so I recognised that I mightinadvertently connect my employer's sister with whatever offence theinmates of the mysterious house had committed.

  Yet when I recollected that wild terrified declaration of Lolita's onthe previous night, how she had told me that if the Frenchwoman withheldher secret "it must result in my death," I felt spurred to approach herat all hazards. There are moments in our lives when, disregarding ournatural caution, we act with precipitation and injudiciously. I fear Iwas given to hot-headed actions, otherwise I should never have dared torun the risk of arousing suspicion in Bullen's mind as I did during thehours that followed.

  From the fact that the house was in darkness there seemed to me a chancethat the woman Lejeune was absent and that she might return home duringthe evening. The detective was apparently keeping watch at the King'sRoad end of the street, therefore I resolved to keep a vigilant eye onthe Embankment end. She might perchance approach from that direction,and if she did I hoped that I should be able to stop her and obtain afew minutes' conversation. It was true that I did not know her, yet Ifelt sufficient confidence in my knowledge of persons to be able to pickout a Frenchwoman in a half-deserted London thoroughfare. The gait andmanner of holding the skirts betray the daughter of Gaul anywhere.

  Patiently I lounged at the corner, compelled to keep an eye upon thedetective's movements lest he should notice my continued presence.Apparently, however, he had no suspicion of a second watcher, for hestood at the opposite end of the street gossiping with all and sundry,and passing the hours as best he could. Presently a ragged newsvendorcame up, and after exchanging words the man shuffled along the street inmy direction, while the detective went off to get his supper. Then Iknew that the ragged man was one of those spies and informers oftenemployed by the London police and who are known in the argot of thegutter as "policemen's noses."

  I avoided him quickly, well knowing that such men are as keen-eyed andquick-witted as the detectives themselves, being often called upon toperform observation work where the police would be handicapped and atonce recognised. Many a crime in London is detected, and many acriminal brought to justice by the aid of the very useful "policeman'snose," whose own record, be it said, is often the reverse of clean.

  It was then nearly eleven o'clock. The newsvendor had seated himselfupon a doorstep half-way up the road and almost opposite the house withthe number upon the fanlight, munching his supper, which he had producedfrom his pocket. I had watched him from around the corner and wasturning back towards the Embankment, when of a sudden I heard footsteps.

  On the opposite side, by the parapet which divided the roadway from theriver, two persons were walking slowly, a man and a woman. In aninstant I strained my eyes in their direction, and as they passedbeneath one of the lamps I saw that the woman was young, dark-haired,thin-faced and rather well-dressed, while her companion was older,bearded, with a reddish bloated face which betokened an undueconsumption of alcoholic liquors. As they passed on towards BrittenStreet I stepped across the road and walked behind them when, nextinstant, I recognised by the man's dress and his broad back view that hewas none other than he whom I had observed walking with Lolita in thewood that morning--the stranger whose face I had not then plainly seen!

  My curiosity was aroused immediately, for on hearing the woman make anobservation in French I knew that she must be the person of whom I wasin search.

  Was she, I wondered, aware that the police were watching her house?Should I not, by placing her on her guard, ingratiate myself with her?My object was to get her to speak the truth and thus save Lolita,therefore I should have greater chance of success were I her benefactor.

  She and her companion, whoever he was, were stepping straight into thetrap laid for them, therefore on the spur of the moment, regardless ofthe fact that I might be the means of enabling certain criminals toescape from justice, I stepped boldly up to her just before they turnedthe corner into Britten Street and, raising my hat, said--

  "Excuse me, mademoiselle, but your name, I believe, is Lejeune?"

  The pair started quickly, and I saw that they were utterly confused.They were evidently endeavouring to reach the house by theless-frequented route.

  "Well, and what if it is?" inquired the broad-shouldered man in a harshbullying tone, speaking with a pronounced Cockney accent and puttingforward his flabby bull-dog face in a threatening attitude.

  "There's no occasion for hot blood, my dear sir," I replied quietly."Just turn and walk back a few yards. I'm here to speak withmademoiselle--not with you."

  "And what do you wish with me?" the young woman inquired in very fairEnglish.

  "Come back a few yards and I'll explain," I responded quickly. "First,let me tell you that my name is Willoughby Woodhouse, and that I amprivate secretary to the Earl of Stanchester."

  "Woodhouse!" gasped her companion involuntarily, and I saw that his facewent pale. "You are Mr Woodhouse!"

  "Yes," I continued, "and I have been sent here to you by Lady LolitaLloyd to warn you that your house is being watched by the police."

  "The police!" ejaculated the man. "Are they there now?"

  "They are. A detective has been keeping observation all the evening."

  "Then we must fly," he whispered quickly. "By Jove! we've had a narrowescape! And, sir, I can only apologise for what I've just said. Ofcourse I didn't know who you were. The fact is I thought you wereyourself a detective."

  "No apology is needed," I smiled. "I've only one further word todeliver from her ladyship," I added, turning to the young Frenchwoman,"and it is that, having given you this timely warning, she hopes thatyou will not fail to let her know your whereabouts. She also says thatyou are to regard myself as the intermediary between you."

  "Tell her that I shall not fail to recognise this kindness," was thewoman's answer in her broken English. "But for her we might both havefallen into the hands of the police. I've been absent a fortnight, butthought that all was clear, otherwise I should not have dared to returnhere."

  "Come, let's get away," urged her companion anxiously.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to remark upon his presence in the Monk'sWood with her ladyship, but perhaps fortunately I held my peace. Heseemed more in fear of detection than she did, for his face had goneghastly pale and his bloodshot eyes were turned back upon thestreet-corner.

  "Have you any message for her ladyship?" I inquired eagerly of thewoman.

  "Only my thanks to her."

  "But," I said, bending to her and speaking in a low very earnest voice,"she is in grave peril. Only the truth, spoken by yourself, can saveher. Recollect by giving you this warning she is saving you from thepolice."

  "I know. I know!" she replied. "I am fully aware of the disaster whichthreatens her. Tell her that I have not yet myself learned the wholetruth. When I do, I will write to her."

  "But you will surely tell what you know?" I urged quickly.

  "At risk of incriminating myself? Not likely," was her reply.

  "Then when the blow falls--as fall it must--it will kill her," I said,disregarding the man's presence, for I felt that he must certainly beaware of everything.

  "Perhaps," was her vague answer, in a hard strained voice. "If I couldhelp her I would. At present, however, it is utterly impossible."

  "Not after this great service she has rendered to you? She has rescuedyou, remember."

  "Because it is not to her own interests that she should be connectedwith the affair," she remarked with what seemed a sneer.

  Then, for the first time, I realised what a terrible mistake I hadcommitted. The warning I had given this woman she actually believed tobe an additional sign of weakness on the part of my well-beloved!

  "But her very life depends upon your words," I cried. "You surely willnot now withhold the truth?"

  "I can say nothing--at least at present,"
she responded evasively.

  "But you must--you hear?" I cried. "You must!"

  "I shall not until it suits me," was the woman's defiant answer, as herdark eyes flashed quickly upon me, and I recognised with what kind ofperson I had to deal. "Tell her that in this matter the stake is herlife, or mine--and I prefer to keep my own." And she laughed that harshdiscordant laugh of a Frenchwoman triumphant.

  "Then you refuse to tell the truth?" I demanded fiercely.

  "I do."

  In that instant a bold plan had suggested itself. She expected toescape, but now she defied me I had no