A Butterfly on the Wheel Part 18

"Strange," he said, nodding his head with an appearance of thoughtfulness. "He wrote to me from Amiens, where he has been staying for the past week, that he was joining the train there; and Amiens is the first stop on the Swiss express, isn't it?"

Lady Attwill almost whispered her a.s.sent.

"And the Paris express doesn't stop at Amiens?"

It suddenly occurred to Lord Ellerdine that he was being left out of the conversation.

"No," he said brightly.

Admaston turned round to him.

"Funny that, being already at Amiens, where the Swiss express does stop, he should have gone to Boulogne to catch it!"

Even the diplomatist, who had imagined that things were going better, began to realise the game was almost up.

"Yes, d.a.m.ned funny of him, wasn't it?" he said feebly.

For a few moments there was an absolute silence in the room. Outside, the roar of the morning traffic, the tooting of motor horns, and all the gay welter of things which marks a Parisian morning in fine weather, only accentuated the silence in the richly furnished salon.

Admaston turned and walked twice up and down the room. Lord Ellerdine was still sitting, guilty and miserable of aspect, in his chair at the breakfast table. Lady Attwill stood quite still where she was, near the window. They were both waiting to hear what should come next. Suddenly Admaston spoke.

"You found Paris very full?" he said in his icy voice.

"Very," Alice Attwill replied; "so we were lucky to get _in_ here."

"Here?" the big man asked.

"Yes; we all stayed the night at this hotel."

"You used to have a very fine old parrot," Admaston said.

There was spirit in the woman. She gave a little toss of her head.

"Er--I have her still," she replied.

"Not stuffed, I hope," he said.

"No, indeed. Alive and kicking."

There was a rattle of a handle, and the door of Collingwood's room opened and he came into the room.

He gave one slight start, no more, and his manner immediately became easy and natural. "Hallo!" he said. "Admaston!"

The big man regarded him gravely, showing no emotion whatever.

"Well, Collingwood," he said very slowly and distinctly, "I thought I would just run over and see----" Then he stopped speaking.

"How did you know that we were here?" Collingwood said.

"From a friend," Admaston answered.

The fool had to have his say. "That's very funny, Admaston," he said.

"We didn't know ourselves."

"You surprise me. Didn't you know you were going to St. Moritz?"

"Of course we didn't know," Lady Attwill said quickly.

"Then how on earth could your friend know?" Lord Ellerdine asked.

There was a complete pause. n.o.body said a word, but Admaston was the centre and focus of the place. All eyes went to him, and then back and round to each other's. He stood there, however, calm and imperturbable, radiating, as it were, not only quiet strength and absolute determination, but also sending out rays of fear, of uneasiness and disturbance.

Lord Ellerdine broke the silence with his plaintive bleat, repeating his former sentence: "Then how on earth could your friend know?"

"That's what I want to know," said Admaston. "But why on earth are you all up so early?"

Collingwood's face had been growing sharp and hostile, his nostrils twitched a little; he seemed now to be definitely on the defensive, ready for the attack. What he said was this: "Mrs. Admaston wanted to go out early to see the people _en route_ to Auteuil."

Admaston raised one firm, shapely hand and brought it down upon the back of the other with a slow movement that ended in a little "click" of noise. "Mrs.?" he said. "Why Mrs. Admaston? Why are you so ceremonious, Colling? Why not Peggy?"

Collingwood looked dangerous, sulky and dangerous.

"Don't know," he said shortly. "I thought perhaps you were offended."

"Offended?" the relentless voice continued--so cold, relentless, and full of purpose that it chilled them all as it echoed out into the room.

"Is there any reason why I should be offended?"

"Certainly not," said Lord Ellerdine in a staccato bleat.

"Good gracious! What an idea!" Alice Attwill chimed in.

Admaston turned to the ex-diplomatist. "Ellerdine," he said, "you ought not to sit up so late. You look very shaky this morning, and your voice has a peculiarly uncertain sound."

"Do I look shaky, old man? That d.a.m.ned journey----"

"To Paris," Admaston said quickly.

"Yes, yes, to Paris."

Admaston went up to him, gazing down at him with calm, reflective eyes as a mastiff regards some terrified small dog. "Late suppers don't agree with you," he said.

"With me?" asked the fool, perplexed.

"With d.i.c.ky? Late suppers?" Lady Attwill interrupted.

There was again a momentary pause.

The thing was closing in. The conspirators knew well enough that they were being played with, with the cold ferocity of a cat with a mouse.

They were brave still. They preserved their pitiful pretences, but to the heart of each of them a little icicle had come.