Johnstone of the Border Part 36

"Now it's up to you," he said, quite distinctly. "You know what will happen to you if you fail!"

Elsie crouched back as the men straightened up. She knew the interview was over, but she did not dare risk crossing the hall to the staircase. A clink of gla.s.s reached her; and then she stood straight against the wall, pressed close against the old clock, for she knew the men were coming out.

Williamson entered the hall first, and as he pushed the door back the light touched the clock. Its tall case was shallow, and when Williamson turned partly round Elsie's heart beat fast. He went on, however, and the stranger followed, putting the papers Staffer had given him into a pocket under his oilskin coat. He wore thick woolen gloves, but perhaps his hands were cold, for an envelope dropped out at the bottom of the oilskin. It fell a foot or two from where Elsie stood, and she thought she could not escape discovery if he stooped to pick it up; but the next moment the library went suddenly dark. The man pa.s.sed on, and Staffer flashed on the electric torch as he came out, but its light did not fall near the corner. He extinguished it when the men reached the house door, and Elsie stood very still with tingling nerves.

She had escaped, but the envelope lay on the floor, and she felt that Appleyard was threatened by some plot in which d.i.c.k was to be involved. Both must be protected; she must get the paper. Its loss would no doubt embarra.s.s the conspirators, and would probably not be discovered for some time, but she must be quick. Their footsteps were almost noiseless, but she heard them go down the steps. Stooping swiftly, she drew her hand across the floor, found the envelope and thrust it inside her kimono. Then she darted across to the stairs, and when she reached the landing she stopped to listen. It was possible that the stranger might feel if he had all the papers before he left.

No sound reached her, and she breathed a sigh of relief; but she forgot that the others had moved silently, and a flash of light swept up the stairs and struck her face. She was dazzled and alarmed; but with an effort she kept her self-control. It would be dangerous to be seen trying to steal away, but if she remained, looking down over the banisters, her presence might be accounted for.

"Who's there?" she asked in a sharp voice.

For a moment or two the light rested on her face, and she was glad to remember that she would not be expected to look composed.

Staffer laughed as he turned the beam on Williamson.

"Our friend and I," he answered. "I'm sorry we startled you. Perhaps I'd better get a candle."

He looked cool. That was comforting, for it suggested that he did not know she had been in the hall; but she thought it wiser to wait a minute. Staffer struck a match; then he put out the torch and gave the lighted candle to Williamson.

"If you don't want supper, we may as well go upstairs. The room you generally use is ready."

Elsie imagined that Williamson had not meant to stay, but he came up in front of Staffer, carrying the candle. She noted that he wore rubber knee-boots and that Staffer had only his stockings on his feet.

When they reached the landing, Williamson looked rather keenly at her, but his face was inscrutable. She could not be sure that he had not seen her behind the clock; and Staffer's att.i.tude might be intended to hide some plan for her embarra.s.sment. But she must keep cool.

"I think we could find Mr. Williamson some cold meat if he is hungry,"

she said.

"He'd rather have sleep," Staffer answered. "He meant to stay at Langholm, so as to get home early to-morrow; but you can never rely on a motorcycle." He turned to Williamson. "How far did you have to walk when it broke down?"

"Four or five miles, after I'd spent some time trying to put it right," Williamson answered, and made his excuses for disturbing them; but Elsie thought he was taking Staffer's cue, and she knew that they were both watching her. For all that, she smiled as she replied with conventional politeness.

"Well," resumed Staffer, "it's getting cold, and I'll look after Williamson. If you hear a door open another time, you'd better call me instead of going down." He paused a moment, and there was a slight change in his tone. "We know your pluck, but I can't allow you to run a risk."

Elsie turned away with keen relief, and on reaching her room she locked the door before she took out the envelope. The name _Thorkelsen_ was written across it. That suggested a Norwegian or a Dane, and was not what she had expected, but she sat for a time with the envelope in her hand. She had no doubt that it contained some dangerous secret. A plausible excuse had been made for Williamson's visit; but she had noticed his clothes, and deck-boots, which were not what one generally wore when motor-cycling. Then, why had the man in oilskins come to Appleyard when he might have expected every one to be asleep? It looked as if her uncle had a part, and a leading part, in some plot in which Williamson was engaged; but she could not reason the matter out. Now that the strain had gone, she suddenly felt limp.

With an effort she roused herself and threw the envelope into the fire. She could not betray her uncle, to whom she owed much; but he should not lead d.i.c.k into trouble, and Appleyard must not be used by her country's enemies. The situation, however, was embarra.s.sing, and she felt that she could not ask Andrew's help. She longed to do so, because she instinctively turned to him when she was in a difficulty, and he had never failed her. But it was impossible now. She must wait and trust to finding some way of baffling the conspirators without staining the family honor.

At last she went to bed, and presently fell asleep; but she got up early in the morning and found d.i.c.k outside, watching Watson clean the car.

"Are you going to Edinburgh to-day?" she asked, as they turned back to the house.

"Yes," said d.i.c.k. "A bit of a change is bracing."

"But Andrew and Mr. Whitney are coming back."

"I suppose that means you don't want me to go; can't trust me up in town?" d.i.c.k said lightly.

"It isn't that." Elsie hesitated. "I imagine they want to make some use of you."

d.i.c.k gave her a curious glance.

"I suppose you mean Williamson does?"

"No," said Elsie, with a touch of color in her face; "I mean both."

"Ah!" d.i.c.k looked at her keenly for a moment. "You're generally frank, Elsie; open as the sunshine, in fact; and I'm not clever at hiding what I think. Suppose you tell me what you really do mean?"

"I can't, d.i.c.k; but I want you to be careful in Edinburgh, for my sake."

"Very well. I'll promise that; and I think I can manage not to let others see I've had a hint. It's a funny thing, but although I am a bit of a fool, I really have more sense than people imagine."

Elsie was puzzled by his manner. The hardness in his tone was not like d.i.c.k; but she let the matter drop.

"Who is Rankine? Do you know him?" she asked.

"Yes; he's a friend of Whitney's people, a navy officer. Struck me as a remarkably good type."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Somewhere between here and Ireland, surveying for charts."

"Perhaps Mr. Whitney will bring him to Appleyard when his ship's in port."

"I'll ask him to, if you like. But I don't know you as a plotter.

What's the scheme?"

"I can't tell you," Elsie answered with a careless smile. "You'll have to trust me, d.i.c.k."

"That's easy," he said in a different tone. "Anybody who knew you well would trust you with his life."

Elsie gave him a quick, affectionate glance, and they went into the house.

CHAPTER XXII

STAFFER'S MESSENGER

d.i.c.k spent several exhilarating days in Edinburgh, although on the whole he conducted himself with a sobriety that surprised his companions, who were thus encouraged to leave him alone.

As they were getting breakfast on the morning they left Edinburgh, Staffer said to d.i.c.k:

"We must start back as soon as we can, but there's an adjustment to be made on the car that may keep me half an hour at the garage. I don't suppose you'll mind doing an errand for me in the meantime?"

"Certainly not," said d.i.c.k.