Hushed Up! A Mystery of London Part 41

"Then they were on their way to meet somebody or other--eh?"

"Ah! that I don't know, sir. I drew up in the yard of the hotel, and they both got out. The lady hurried in, while the gentleman paid me, and gave me something for myself. It was then nearly four o'clock in the morning. I should have been back earlier, only I had a puncture the other side of Hatfield, and had to put on the 'Stepney.'"

"I must go to Stamford," I said decisively. Then I put something into his palm, as well as into that of the page-boy, and, entering a taxi, drove back home.

An hour later I sat beside my own chauffeur, as we drove through the steadily falling rain across Hampstead Heath, on our hundred-mile journey into Lincolnshire.

We both knew every inch of the road, having been over it many times.

As it was wet, police-traps were unlikely, so, having negotiated the narrow road as far as Hatfield, we began to "let her out" past Hitchin, and we buzzed on over the broad open road through Stilton village. We were hung up at the level-crossing at Wansford, but about half-past three in the afternoon we swept over the brow of the hill beneath the high wall of Burghley Park, and saw beneath us the roofs and many spires of quiet old Stamford.

Ten minutes later we swung into the yard of the ancient George, and, alighting, entered the broad hall, with its splendid old oak staircase, in search of the manageress.

She related a rather curious story.

On the previous night, about eleven o'clock, there arrived by car two well-dressed gentlemen who, though English, conversed together in French. They took rooms, but did not retire to bed, saying that they expected two friends who were motoring, and who would arrive in the night. They sat over the fire in the lounge, while the staff of the hotel all retired, save the night-boots, an old retainer. The latter stated that during the night, as he pa.s.sed the door of the lounge, he saw through the crack of the door the younger of the two men examining something which shone and sparkled in the light, and he thought to be diamonds. This struck him as somewhat curious; therefore he kept a watchful eye upon the pair.

One he described as rather stout, dark, and bald-headed--the exact description of Pennington--and the other description the man afterwards gave to me caused me to feel confident that the second man was none other than the scoundrel Reckitt. What further piece of chicanery had they been guilty of, I wondered?

"About four in the morning a grey car drove up, sir," went on the boots, "and a lady with a dark cloak over her evening dress dashed in, and they both rose quickly and welcomed her. Then, in order that I should not understand, they again started talking in some foreign language--French I expect it was. A few moments later the gentleman came in. They welcomed him warmly, addressing him by the name of Lewis. I saw the bald-headed man wring his hand heartily, and heard him exclaim: 'By Jove! old man, you can't think how glad we are to see you back again! You must have had a narrow squeak! Not another single living man would have acted with the determination and bravery with which you've acted. Only you must be careful, Lewis, old man--deuced careful. There are enemies about, you know.' Then the gentleman said: 'I know! I'm quite aware of my peril, Arnold. You, too, had a narrow shave in Paris a short time ago--I hear from Sonia.' 'Yes,' laughed the other, 'she acted splendidly. But, as you say, it was a very close thing. Have you seen Shuttleworth yet?' he asked. The other said: 'He met me, in the Ditches at Southampton, two nights ago, and told me all that's happened.' 'Ah! And Sonia has told you the rest, I suppose?' he asked; to which the other man replied in the affirmative, adding: 'It's a bad job, I fear, for Owen Biddulph--a very bad job for the fellow!' That was all the conversation that I overheard at that time, for they then rang the bell and ordered whisky and sodas."

"And what else did you see or hear?" I asked eagerly, much puzzled by his statement.

"They struck me as rather a suspicious lot, sir," the man said. "After I had taken them in their drinks they closed the door, and seemed to hold some sort of a consultation. While this was going on, two men drove up in another car, and asked if a Mr. Winton was here. I told him he was--for the bald-headed gentleman had given the name of Douglas Winton. They were at once welcomed, and admitted to the conference."

"Rather curious--to hold a conference in such a manner and at such an hour!" I remarked.

"Yes, sir. It was a secret meeting, evidently. They all spoke in another language. The two men who last arrived were no doubt foreigners."

"Was one of them stout and wore gold-rimmed gla.s.ses?" I inquired quickly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

AN UNFORTUNATE SLIP

"No, sir," the boots replied, "both were youngish men, with dark moustaches. They wore heavy coats, and were in an open car. They came from York way, and had evidently driven some distance."

"You saw nothing of what went on at their mysterious meeting?"

"Well, sir, the fact is, when I had had my suspicions aroused, I crept out into the yard, and found that I could see into the lounge through the c.h.i.n.k between the blind and the window. They were all seated round the table, the head of which had been taken by the gentleman who had arrived from London with the lady. He seemed to be chairman, and he talked in a low, deliberate, and very earnest tone, being listened to with greatest interest. He evidently related something which amazed them. Then a map, or plan, was placed upon the table, and each examined it in turn. Afterwards two photographs were produced by Mr.

Winton and handed around the a.s.sembly. Each man looked long and steadily at the pictures--both were of women. The young lady present refused to take any part in the discussion, and I noticed that she pa.s.sed on the photographs without comment--without even glancing at them."

"Did she appear to be present there against her will?" I asked breathlessly.

"No, not exactly. She seemed very friendly with all the gentlemen. The two foreigners were strangers to her--for she was introduced to them."

"By name?"

"Yes, sir. Miss Sonia Poland."

I bit my lip. Had she already dropped my name, and was now pa.s.sing under an alias?

"Sonia Poland!" I echoed. "Was it for the purpose of concealing her ident.i.ty from the foreigners, do you think?" I asked.

"No, sir. Because Winton and his companion addressed her as Sonia Poland when she arrived."

"And you believed it to be her real name?"

"I suppose it is, sir," was the man's reply, for I fear my manner somewhat mystified him.

"Well, and what further did you see at this early morning consultation?" I asked, mindful that his curiosity had no doubt been aroused by sight of something sparkling in the strange visitor's hand.

"The gentleman called Mr. Lewis wrote out a paper very carefully and handed it round. Every one signed it--except the lady. They asked her to do so, but she protested vigorously, and the matter was not pressed. Then the photograph of a man was shown to the two foreigners, and the lady tried to prevent it. Curiously enough, sir, I caught a good sight of it--just a head and shoulders--and the picture very much resembled you yourself, sir!"

"Me!" I cried. "And they showed it to the two young foreigners--eh?"

"Yes, sir. One of them took it and put it into his pocket. Then the mysterious Mr. Lewis, as chairman of the meeting, seemed to raise a protest. The two foreigners gesticulated, jabbered away, and raised their shoulders a lot. I dearly wish I could have made out a word they said. Unfortunately I couldn't. Only I saw that in Mr. Lewis's face was a look of fierce determination. They at first defied him. But at last, with great reluctance, they handed back the photograph, which Mr. Lewis himself burned on the fire."

"He burned my photograph!"

"Yes, sir. I think it was yours, sir--but of course I can't be quite positive."

"And what else?"

"Mr. Winton said something, whereupon all of them glanced at the door and then at the window. One of the foreigners came to the window, but did not notice that there was a slight crack through which I could see. Then he turned the key in the door. After he had returned to his chair, the man who had arrived with Mr. Winton took from his pocket something that shone. My heart beat quickly. It was a diamond necklet--the object I had seen in his hand earlier. He pa.s.sed it round for the admiration of the others, who each took it and closely examined it beneath the light--all but the young lady. She was standing aside, near the fireplace, watching. Now and then she placed her hand to her forehead, as though her brain were weary."

"And after that?"

"After the necklet had been pa.s.sed round the elder of the two foreigners wrapped it carefully in his handkerchief and placed it in his pocket. Then Mr. Lewis gave them a long address, emphasizing his words with his hand, and they listened to him without uttering a word.

Suddenly Mr. Winton sprang up and wrung his hand, afterwards making what appeared to be some highly complimentary remarks, for Mr. Lewis smiled and bowed to the a.s.sembly, who afterwards rose. Then the young lady rushed up to Mr. Lewis and implored him to do something, but he refused. She stood before him, pale-faced and determined. Her eyes seemed starting from her head. She seemed like one horrified. But he placed his hand tenderly upon her shoulder, and uttered some quick low words which instantly calmed her. Very shortly after that the party broke up, and the door was re-opened. The two foreigners hurriedly swallowed a liqueur-gla.s.s of brandy each, and then, pa.s.sing into the yard, wished their companions adieu and drove away in their car--in the direction of London."

"Carrying with them the diamond necklet which the other man had brought there?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what became of the young lady?" I inquired very anxiously.

"She first had a long and private conversation with the gentleman named Winton--the bald-headed man."

This, it will be remembered, was the person whose description tallied exactly with that of her father.

"They went outside together," said the boots, "out into the yard, and there conversed alone in half-whispers. Afterwards they rejoined the others. Mr. Lewis seemed very annoyed with her; nevertheless, after a cup of tea each, about half-past five the four of them got into the car in which Winton had arrived and drove away in the direction of Grantham. Winton gave me a sovereign for myself--an unusually generous gift, I can a.s.sure you, sir," he laughed.

"And now what is your own opinion concerning them?" I asked.

"Why, there can only be one opinion, sir--that they are wrong 'uns. I felt half a mind to tell Mr. Pearson, the police-constable who lives across in Water Lane, but I didn't like to without consulting somebody. And I didn't want to wake up the manageress."