The Ivory Snuff Box Part 14

The room was pitch dark. In a moment, however, Hartmann had pressed an electric b.u.t.ton, and a brilliant light flooded the place. Duvall looked about him curiously, and in that fleeting glance saw that the room was without windows of any kind, and that the walls, smooth and white, contained no openings whatever, except the door by which they had entered. The floor, as he could tell by its feel under his feet, was of cement. The room was bare of furniture, but he perceived a number of boxes and packing cases standing about the walls.

The instant the door was closed, Hartmann sprang at the detective and grasped his two wrists. The latter had always been considered a powerful man, but the arms and shoulders of the doctor were those of a Hercules.

"Search him, Mayer," he said, as he pinned Duvall's wrists together in his iron grip.

The man addressed as Mayer at once began a systematic search of Duvall's person. With deft fingers he explored his pockets, felt the linings of his clothing, tore through the contents of his pocketbook. The opera hat had fallen to the floor, in the short struggle which ensued when the detective found himself in Hartmann's grasp. Mayer picked it up, glanced at it carelessly, then threw it angrily into a corner, where it rolled un.o.bserved, into the shadow of a large box.

"There is nothing here," he said, in a voice of keen disappointment. "He must have hidden it elsewhere."

"In his room at the hotel, perhaps--his portmanteau," the doctor said, eagerly, releasing Duvall's hands and throwing him to one side with some violence.

Mayer looked grave. "I have searched everything thoroughly. It is not there."

The doctor muttered an oath. "The other--the old Frenchman?"

"He was arrested to-night on a charge of irregularity in his pa.s.sport.

Nothing discovered. He will be released in the morning."

"_Teufel!_" The doctor swore excitedly in German. "Then the other one--the one who was in charge of Seltz--he must have it."

"No. He also has been searched, with the same results."

"May I ask what you are looking for?" asked Duvall, calmly.

"You know, well enough, Duvall," exclaimed Mayer, turning on him. "Oh, yes--I know your name. The examination of your baggage showed that. As soon as I wired to London and discovered that the man Seltz had left there last night, I knew how we had been fooled. One of our men saw the snuff box in your possession just before you left the hotel to go to the house of Mr. Phelps. What have you done with it?"

Duvall regarded his questioner calmly. "I do not know what you are talking about, gentlemen. I have no snuff box, nor do I use tobacco in that form. And now, if you have concluded this outrage upon an American citizen, perhaps you will let me return quietly to my hotel. If you do not, I promise you you shall pay heavily for it."

His words, for the moment, seemed to disconcert the two men. Then Mayer laughed, "Nothing but bluff, young man--American bluff. I know who you are. You followed Seltz here from London, and got the snuff box from him by a trick. Now tell us where it is."

The detective smiled. "I do not know what you are talking about," he said, quietly.

Dr. Hartmann growled out an oath. "Take off his things, Mayer. He may have the box in his clothing somewhere--or the heel of his boot. I'll get a dressing-gown, from above." He left the room, and Duvall heard him clanking up the iron staircase.

"If you insist on removing my clothes," he said to Mayer, "I prefer to do so myself." He rapidly stripped off his evening suit and shoes, and threw them upon the floor.

The man gathered them up, feeling each article carefully, and testing the heels of the boots with a knife which he drew from his pocket. He appeared greatly disappointed at not finding the object of his search.

Then he again examined Duvall, feeling his person from head to toe with great care. He had just finished when the doctor returned with a long gray woolen dressing gown, which he tossed to the detective.

"He's hidden it somewhere. He hasn't got it with him," Mayer exclaimed, angrily.

"Take him to the small bedroom in the west wing," said the doctor.

"We'll get it out of him, before we're through. You can leave the clothes in the laboratory." He cast his eye about the room to see that nothing had been forgotten. Duvall trembled, thinking of the hat lying unseen behind the packing case in the corner. Hartmann, however, did not observe it. Without saying anything further he threw open the door, and they all pa.s.sed into the little hall.

From there, Duvall was led up the iron staircase to the floor above, and found himself in a large room which he took to be the doctor's laboratory. It was dimly lit by means of a reading-lamp. He had a confused vision of a number of scientific appliances, bulking huge and forbidding in the shadows, and then was conducted through a gla.s.s door and along a corridor similar to the one through which he and the doctor had so recently pa.s.sed on the floor below. He judged, from the direction they were taking, that it was directly above the lower pa.s.sageway, and led back to the main part of the house.

In this he soon found that he was correct. A door at the end of the corridor gave entrance to the upper central hall of the main building.

He was led off to the right, catching a momentary glimpse of a woman attendant sitting in a chair near the head of the stairs as he pa.s.sed.

In a few moments Hartmann paused before a door, threw it open, and turned on the lights. The detective saw before him a well-furnished bedroom, with two large windows, and another door, which he later found gave entrance to a bathroom. The dark shadows against the night light without showed him at once that the windows were barred.

He turned to the two men. "You do not intend to release me then?" he asked, angrily.

Hartmann laughed. "You will be quite comfortable here, my friend. I am sure that a few days of complete rest will benefit your condition greatly. I imagine your trouble is merely a temporary affliction--a loss of memory, let us say, an inability to recall your name. We'll soon have you all right again. You have only to inform me where you have placed the snuff box which you stole from my messenger this morning, and I shall know that a complete cure has been effected. If your friends are alarmed about you, it will be quite sufficient to tell them that you are in my care. Mr. Phelps, for instance, has complete confidence in my ability. I will make it a point to explain matters to him at once. Just a trifling ailment, a disordered condition of the brain cells. A week should set you right again. If there is anything you wish, the attendants will get it for you. Your clothes will be sent up from the hotel in the morning. Make yourself quite at home, I beg of you."

He turned away, with a sardonic smile, and Duvall heard the key turn in the door as it closed. He glanced at the barred windows, the door, half-open, leading to the bathroom, and realized that there was not the slightest hope of escape. Dr. Hartmann evidently intended to keep him a prisoner until he disclosed the whereabouts of the snuff box. He smiled grimly as he threw himself upon the bed. It seemed likely that his stay would be a long one.

After a time he began to think of Grace. How cleverly she had carried out her part! It was clear that the doctor did not suspect her, or, if he did, was unable to see where his suspicions led. How strange it seemed to realize that she, his wife, lay somewhere under the same roof with him--possibly even in the very next room! But thirty-six hours had pa.s.sed since their wedding and their sudden and unexpected parting.

During that time, he had seen Grace but twice, once, at Hartmann's office, in the morning; the second time, at the Minister's that night.

How he had longed to touch her hand, to put his arms about her, to feel his lips on hers. Yet as matters stood, the chances of their seeing each other in the near future seemed particularly remote. He wondered if Hartmann would keep him a prisoner in his room. The morning, of course, would tell. He switched off the lights, got into bed, and after a long time fell into a broken sleep.

CHAPTER XV

It was late in the afternoon, when Dr. Hartmann, through his man Mayer, discovered that Seltz had left London, and should have appeared at his office with the snuff box during the forenoon. A description of Seltz, together with a curious feeling of uneasiness which he felt after the departure of the man who had introduced himself as Mr. Brooks, caused him to conclude that he had been made the victim of a clever trick, and one which only his professional enthusiasm had made possible.

He at once set to work, through Mayer and his men, to locate Brooks.

This was done, without difficulty, at the Hotel Metropole. While the doctor followed the latter to the Minister's, firm in his belief that he carried the snuff box with him, Mayer had arranged through certain connections with the Belgian police, to have Dufrenne arrested and placed in confinement over night on a trumped-up charge; Seltz liberated, and Lablanche held on a pretense of being concerned in the theft from the latter of a valuable package. A thorough search of Duvall's baggage--Dufrenne, it seemed, had none--disclosed nothing, except certain doc.u.ments setting forth that the latter was Richard Duvall, an American citizen. It was these papers, in fact, which Duvall had shown to Mr. Phelps earlier in the day.

There was nothing to indicate to Hartmann that Duvall was acting in the interests of the French secret police, but the doctor suspected it, knowing as he did that the recovery of Monsieur de Grissac's snuff box would become at once a matter of the utmost moment to Lefevre and his men. Curiously enough, his momentary suspicions of Grace had largely disappeared. There was nothing to connect her with Duvall. He did not know that it was she who had opened the door and admitted Seltz to his house earlier in the day--he thought that Duvall had done this himself.

Grace's manner, her conduct during the ride in the cab from the Minister's house, had shown him nothing. Still, he felt that she would bear watching and made his plans accordingly.

The sun was shining through the windows of Duvall's room when he awoke the next morning. For a brief s.p.a.ce he was unable to recognize his surroundings, then the sequence of events came to him with a rush. He was conscious of a knocking at the door. He sprang up and opened it.

Outside stood one of the men attendants whom he had seen the night before, with the portmanteau containing his clothes. The man placed the bag upon a chair, and opened it, then withdrew.

Duvall proceeded at once to dress. He had just finished when the attendant returned with an elaborate breakfast on a tray. He ate heartily. Evidently the doctor had no intention of starving him. Upon the table he observed his watch and seals, which he had worn with his evening clothes the night before. He looked at the watch and saw, to his astonishment, that it was after nine o'clock.

Now that he was dressed, he wondered what he should do with himself. It did not occur to him that the doctor would do other than keep him confined to his room, yet the man who had brought the breakfast things had not apparently locked the door when he went out.

Without any clear idea of what he intended to do, Duvall went to the door and tried it. To his surprise, he found it unlocked, and in a moment he had pa.s.sed out into the hall.

The house seemed deserted. Even the attendant who had sat at the head of the stairs the night before was no longer in evidence. He went down to the lower floor without seeing any one. As he pa.s.sed the door of the doctor's office, on his way to the entrance, he heard it open, and Dr.

Hartmann looked out at him with a grim smile. "Ah--going for a stroll, I see, Mr. Duvall," he said, pleasantly enough. "It's a fine morning. I hope you enjoy it."

Duvall made no reply. He appreciated fully that Hartmann was only making fun of him, and realized his helplessness.

Once outside the door, he paused for a moment to drink in the beauty of the morning. Straight ahead of him stretched the driveway which led to the main road. The ornamental iron gate stood invitingly open. He went toward it, unconsciously pondering upon his situation and what he could do, if anything, to escape from it. At the gate he paused, looking about carefully to see whether his movements were observed. There appeared to be no one near him, although along one of the paths to the right of the house, he saw several persons walking, whom he judged to be inmates of the place. One or two others sat on benches among the shrubbery, reading. None of them seemed to take the least interest in his movements.

An empty cab pa.s.sed slowly, the driver on the lookout for a fare. For a moment the detective thought of escape, his hand came up with a jerk to signal the cabman, then suddenly he let it fall with an exclamation of dismay. He could not escape--he did not dare attempt it, knowing that the snuff box, which had already caused him so much anxiety and trouble, lay in a corner of the room beneath the doctor's laboratory. First he must get that, before he could attempt to escape. He turned slowly back toward the house.

Then suddenly another doubt a.s.sailed him. Had not Dr. Hartmann allowed him this liberty merely to see whether or not he would take advantage of it? Would the latter conclude, now that he had failed to do so, that the snuff box was hidden somewhere on the premises? The thought disturbed him greatly.

Still another consideration occurred to him. If he made any attempt to recover the box, would his doing so not show his captors at once that they had overlooked the hat--a chance, indeed, in a thousand? The first move he might make toward the room under the laboratory, would arouse Hartmann's suspicions, a search would be made and the hat and its precious contents discovered.

Certainly he was tied hand and foot. He dared not leave the place, without taking the snuff box with him; he dared not attempt to recover it for fear its hiding place would thereby be disclosed. He was, he suddenly realized, as much a prisoner as though he were locked in a cell. And Grace?

The thought of her caused him to glance about nervously, and in a moment he saw her coming toward him from the direction of the house. She appeared to be looking for him, yet when she saw him, she seemed in doubt as to what to do. Duvall went up to her. "Good-morning, Miss Ellicott," he said, in a voice clearly audible within the house, were any of the windows open. He fancied he detected Hartmann's dark face peering at him from the waiting-room.