The Disentanglers Part 64

_Thomas Merton, Esq_., _care of Ronald Macrae, Esq_., _Castle Skrae_.

Mr. Macrae took the letter, bidding Benson, the butler, search the room, and conveyed the epistle to Merton, who opened it. It ran thus:--

'DEAR MERTON,--As a man of the world, and slightly my senior, you must have expected to meet me in the smoking-room to-night, or at least Lord Fastcastle probably entertained that hope. I saw that things were getting a little too warm, and made other arrangements. It is a little hard on the poor fellow whom you have probably mauled, if you have not shot each other. As he has probably informed you, he is not Mr. Gianesi, but a dismissed _employe_, whom we enlisted, and whom I found it desirable to leave behind me. These discomforts will occur; I myself did not look for so severe an a.s.sault as I suffered down at the cove on Sunday evening. The others carried out their parts only too conscientiously in my case. You will not easily find an opportunity of renewing our acquaintance, as I slit and cut the tyres of all the motors, except that on which I am now retiring from hospitable Castle Skrae, having also slit largely the tyres of the bicycles. Mr. Macrae's new wireless machine has been rendered useless by my unfortunate a.s.sociate, and, as I have rather spiked all the wheeled conveyances (I could not manage to scuttle the yacht), you will be put to some inconvenience to re-establish communications. By that time my trail will be lost. I enclose a banknote for 10_l_., which pray, if you would oblige me, distribute among the servants at the Castle. Please thank Mr. Macrae for all his hospitality. Among my books you may find something to interest you. You may keep my ma.n.u.script poems.

Very faithfully yours, GERALD BLAKE.'

'P. S.--The genuine Gianesi will probably arrive at Lairg to-morrow.

My unfortunate a.s.sociate (whom I cannot sufficiently pity), relieved him of his ingenious machine _en_ _route_, and left him, heavily drugged, in a train bound for Fort William. Or perhaps Gianesi may come by sea to Loch Inver. G.B.'

When Merton had read this elegant epistle aloud, Benson entered, bearing electrical apparatus which had been found in the book boxes abandoned by Blake. What he had done was obvious enough. He had merely smuggled in, in his book boxes, a machine which corresponded with that of the kidnappers, and had subst.i.tuted its mechanism for that supplied to Mr.

Macrae by Gianesi and Giambresi. This he must have arranged on the Sat.u.r.day night, when Merton saw the kilted appearance of Eachain of the Hairy Arm. A few metallic atoms from the coherer on the floor of the smoking-room had caught Merton's eye before breakfast on Sunday morning.

Now it was Friday morning! And still no means of detecting and capturing the kidnappers had been discovered.

Out of the captive nothing could be extracted. The room had been cleared, save for Mr. Macrae, Logan, and Bude, and the man had been interrogated. He refused to answer any questions, and demanded to be taken before a magistrate. Now, where was there a magistrate?

Logan lighted the smoking-room fire, thrust the poker into it, and began tying hard knots in a length of cord, all this silently. His brows were knit, his lips were set, in his eye shone the wild light of the blood of Restalrig. Bude and Mr. Macrae looked on aghast.

'What _are_ you about?' asked Merton.

'There are methods of extracting information from reluctant witnesses,'

snarled Logan.

'Oh, bosh!' said Merton. 'Mr. Macrae cannot permit you to revive your ancestral proceedings.'

Logan threw down his knotted cord. 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Macrae,' he said, 'but if I had that dog in my house of Kirkburn--' he then went out.

'Lord Fastcastle is a little moved,' said Merton. 'He comes of a wild stock, but I never saw him like this.'

Mr. Macrae allowed that the circ.u.mstances were unusual.

A horrible thought occurred to Merton. 'Mr. Macrae,' he exclaimed, 'may I speak to you privately? Bude, I dare say, will be kind enough to remain with that person.'

Mr. Macrae followed Merton into the billiard-room.

'My dear sir,' said the pallid Merton, 'Logan and I have made a terrible blunder! We never doubted that, if we caught any one, our captive would be Blake. I do not deny that this man is his accomplice, but we have literally no proof. He may persist, if taken before a magistrate, that he is Gianesi. He may say that, being in your employment as an electrician, he naturally entered the smoking-room when the electric bell rang. He can easily account for his possession of a revolver, in a place where a mysterious crime has just been committed. As to the Highland costume, he may urge that, like many Southrons, he had bought it to wear on a Highland tour, and was trying it on. How can you keep him? You have no longer the right of Pit and Gallows. Before what magistrate can you take him, and where? The sheriff-subst.i.tute may be at Golspie, or Tongue, or Dingwall, or I don't know where. What can we do? What have we against the man? "Loitering with intent"? And here Logan and I have knocked him down, and tied him up, and Logan wanted to torture him.'

'Dear Mr. Merton,' replied Mr. Macrae, with paternal tenderness, 'you are overwrought. You have not slept all night. I must insist that you go to bed, and do not rise till you are called. The man is certainly guilty of conspiracy, that will be proved when the real Gianesi comes to hand. If not, I do not doubt that I can secure his silence. You forget the power of money. Make yourself easy, go to sleep; meanwhile I must re-establish communications. Good-night, golden slumbers!'

He wrung Merton's hand, and left him admiring the calm resolution of one whose conversation, 'in the mad pride of intellectuality,' he had recently despised. The millionaire, Merton felt, was worthy to be his daughter's father.

'The power of money!' mused Mr. Macrae; 'what is it in circ.u.mstances like mine? Surrounded by all the resources of science, I am baffled by a clever rogue and in a civilised country the aid of the law and the police is as remote and inaccessible as in the Great Sahara! But to business!'

He sent for Benson, bade him, with some gillies, carry the prisoner into the dungeon of the old castle, loose his bonds, place food before him, and leave him in charge of the stalker. He informed Bude that breakfast would be ready at eight, and then retired to his study, where he matured his plans.

The yacht he would send to Lochinver to await the real Gianesi there, and to send telegrams descriptive of Blake in all directions. Giambresi must be telegraphed to again, and entreated to come in person, with yet another electric machine, for that brought by the false Gianesi had been, by the same envoy, rendered useless. A mounted man must be despatched to Lairg to collect vehicles and transport there, and to meet the real Gianesi if he came that way. Thus Mr. Macrae, with cool patience and forethought, endeavoured to recover his position, happy in the reflection that treachery had at last been eliminated. He did not forget to write telegrams to remote sheriff-subst.i.tutes and procurators fiscal.

As to the kidnappers, he determined to amuse them with protracted negotiations on the subject of his daughter's ransom. These would be despatched, of course, by the wireless engine which was in tune and touch with their own. During the parleyings the wretches might make some blunder, and Mr. Macrae could perhaps think out some plan for their detection and capture, without risk to his daughter. If not, he must pay ransom.

Having written out his orders and telegrams, Mr. Macrae went downstairs to visit the stables. He gave his commands to his servants, and, as he returned, he met Logan, who had been on the watch for him.

'I am myself again, Mr. Macrae,' said Logan, smiling. 'After all, we are living in the twentieth century, not the sixteenth, worse luck! And now can you give me your attention for a few minutes?'

'Willingly,' said Mr. Macrae, and they walked together to a point in the garden where they were secure from being overheard.

'I must ask you to lend me a horse to ride to Lairg and the railway at once,' said Logan.

'Must you leave us? You cannot, I fear, catch the 12.50 train south.'

'I shall take a special train if I cannot catch the one I want,' said Logan, adding, 'I have a scheme for baffling these miscreants and rescuing Miss Macrae, while disappointing them of the monstrous ransom which they are certain to claim. If you can trust me, you will enter into protracted negotiations with them on the matter through the wireless machine.'

'That I had already determined to do,' said the millionaire. 'But may I inquire what is your scheme?'

'Would it be asking too much to request you to let me keep it concealed, even from you? Everything depends on the most absolute secrecy. It must not appear that you are concerned--must not be suspected. My plan has been suggested to me by trifling indications which no one else has remarked. It is a plan which, I confess, appears wild, but what is _not_ wild in this unhappy affair? Science, as a rule beneficent, has given birth to potentialities of crime which exceed the dreams of oriental romance. But science, like the spear of Achilles, can cure the wounds which herself inflicts.'

Logan spoke calmly, but eloquently, as every reader must observe. He was no longer the fierce Border baron of an hour agone, but the polished modern gentleman. The millionaire marked the change.

'Any further mystery cannot but be distasteful, Lord Fastcastle,' said Mr. Macrae.

'The truth is,' said Logan, 'that if my plan takes shape important persons and interests will be involved. I myself will be involved, and, for reasons both public and private, it seems to me to the last degree essential that you should in no way appear; that you should be able, honestly, to profess entire ignorance. If I fail, I give you my word of honour that your position will be in no respect modified by my action. If I succeed--'

'Then you will, indeed, be my preserver,' said the millionaire.

'Not I, but my friend, Mr. Merton,' said Logan, 'who, by the way, ought to accompany me. In Mr. Merton's genius for success in adventures entailing a mystery more dark, and personal dangers far greater, than those involved by my scheme (which is really quite safe), I have confidence based on large experience. To Merton alone I owe it that I am a married, a happy, and, speaking to any one but yourself, I might say an affluent man. This adventure must be achieved, if at all, _auspice Merton_.'

'I also have much confidence in him, and I sincerely love him,' said Mr.

Macrae, to the delight of Logan. He then paced silently up and down in deep thought. 'You say that your scheme involves you in no personal danger?' he asked.

'In none, or only in such as men encounter daily in several professions.

Merton and I like it.'

'And you will not suffer in character if you fail?'

'Certainly not in character; no gentleman of my coat ever entered on enterprise so free from moral blame,' said Logan, 'since my ancestor and namesake, Sir Robert, fell at the side of the good Lord James of Douglas, above the Heart of Bruce.'

He thrilled and changed colour as he spoke.

'Yet it would not do for _me_ to be known to be connected with the enterprise?' asked Mr. Macrae.

'Indeed it would not! Your notorious opulence would arouse ideas in the public mind, ideas false, indeed, but fatally compromising.'

'I may not even subsidise the affair--put a million to Mr. Merton's account?'

'In no sort! Afterwards, _after_ he succeeds, then I don't say, if Merton will consent; but that is highly improbable. I know my friend.'

Mr. Macrae sighed deeply and remained pensive. 'Well,' he answered at last, 'I accept your very gallant and generous proposal.'

'I am overjoyed!' said Logan. He had never been in such a big thing before.