The Voice from the Void: The Great Wireless Mystery Part 39

That same evening Elma sat in her room, with the hazy London sunset fading over the Park, confused and wondering.

Surely Roddy would not tell her a lie! She took out his scribbled note and re-read it, as she had done a dozen times before. It was a plain and straightforward a.s.sertion, and yet the man Rutherford had produced the concession granted to him, properly authenticated and officially sealed.

Where was Roddy? Was it really possible, as Rutherford had suggested, that he was in hiding, not daring to come forward now that his lie was proved? She could not bring herself to believe it. And yet why had he so suddenly gone to Farncombe for one night and then taken train to Guildford and disappeared?

On the previous day she had been down to Guildford by train from Waterloo, and had made inquiries of the porters and in the booking-office and elsewhere regarding Roddy, whom one or two of the railway servants--knew, but without avail. Roddy had been seen waiting out in the station yard by a clerk in the parcel office. That was all the information she could gather. Therefore, after a cup of coffee at the tea-shop in the old-fashioned High Street, she had returned to London.

That evening as she sat pondering, pale and nervous, her maid came into her room and she roused herself wearily. Then she put on a plain little black dinner-frock and went downstairs to the dining-room, where her father, pale-faced and rather morose, awaited her.

Hughes, surprised at his master's sudden gravity, served the meal with his usual stateliness, begotten of long service with the Earl.

With the footman and Hughes present father and daughter could exchange no confidences. So they hurried over their meal, and found relief when they were back in the library and alone.

"I'm utterly puzzled, dad," declared the girl; "I can get no news of Roddy. I'm certain that he would never write that letter and deceive me about the concession. It is his--I'm positive."

"But, my dear child, how can it be? I have read the translation of Rutherford's concession. All is in order. It revokes any other permit that has ever been given. It is a firm and una.s.sailable contract."

"I don't care what it is," declared the girl. "Roddy would never deceive me. I know his father's death has greatly upset him, but he is still in possession of all his faculties."

"But his mental condition was bad, you will remember," remarked her father.

"It was. But he is quite well again. I know he would never mislead me, dad!" And she fondled Tweedles, who, barking for recognition, had placed his front paws upon her knees.

"Of course," said Mr Sandys, humouring her, "you love Roddy and, of course, believe in him. It is after all but natural, my child."

"Yes, dad. You know that I love him. He is so honest, so upright, so true, that I feel confident, though the evidence seems against him, that he has not told a lie. He is the victim of circ.u.mstances," the slim girl said, as she stood before the fire with the little dog in her arms.

"But unfortunately, dear, he does not come forward," her father said.

"Is it not his place to be here after writing you that letter concerning the concession? If he had been granted it, surely he would have come direct to me with it! Homfray is no fool. He knows that I could develop the scheme in the City within a few hours. Therefore why is he not here?"

"He is prevented."

"How do we know that? He may be prevented--or he may fear to come."

"You are not generous towards him, dad," the girl protested.

"I'm generous, my dear--most generous," replied the ruined man. "I like Roddy Homfray. His poor father's sudden death was, I fear, a great blow to him, and especially so as he has scarcely entirely recovered from that very strange adventure of his which narrowly cost him his life.

But in the present circ.u.mstances we must face hard facts. He has written to you making an a.s.sertion which he has not substantiated, and which is disproved by the official doc.u.ment which Rex Rutherford has placed in my hands."

The girl, still confident in her lover's _bona fides_, shook her head.

"There will be ample explanation one day, dad. I'm certain of it," she declared. "I am indeed confident that Roddy has not written to me a deliberate lie."

Next day pa.s.sed, but young Homfray made no sign. Again Elma telephoned to Farncombe, and yet again came the reply that her lover had not returned. His silence puzzled her greatly. Could it be really true that his concession only existed in his own imagination? She loved him too well to think ill of him. Now that she was as poor as he was there could be no barrier to their marriage. Her magnificent home would be swept away, the Towers would be sold again, and her father made bankrupt.

She was again standing alone at the window of her room looking across the Park, where the trees were clearly showing the autumn tints.

Her face was pale and haggard, her clenched hands trembling.

"No, no!" she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "I alone can save dad from ruin and bankruptcy. I alone! And I must do it!"

That evening, just after Hughes had brought in the tea, her father being in the City, the old man reappeared saying that Mr Rutherford had called.

She held her breath, then, with an effort, she gave permission for him to be shown in.

The stout, beady-eyed man, in perfect-fitting clothes and a dangling monocle, crossed the carpet, smiling, with hand outstretched. The girl asked him to be seated, and poured him out a cup of tea. Her thoughts were of Roddy, but she strove to crush them down. Her brain was awhirl, for she knew that only by her own sacrifice could her beloved father be saved.

Presently, when they had chatted about other things, Rutherford returned to the point and bluntly asked whether she had reconsidered her decision.

"Yes, Mr Rutherford, I have," she replied very slowly in a deep, tense voice. "You are prepared to a.s.sist my father under a certain condition.

That I accept."

"Then you will marry me!" he cried, with triumph in his eyes, as he jumped up and seized her hand. Then she felt his hot breath upon her cheek and shrank from his embrace.

When he left she went to her room and, locking the door, gave way to another paroxysm of grief.

At nine o'clock that night Rutherford called again and told Mr Sandys of Elma's acceptance.

The old man stood staggered.

"Elma has done this for your sake, Mr Sandys," Rutherford said. "And, after all, it is a marriage of convenience, as so many are. Both our positions will be improved by it, yours and mine, for this concession will mean big money to both of us."

Mr Sandys could not reply. His thoughts held him speechless. Elma had sacrificed herself to save him from ruin!

But where was Roddy Homfray? That was a problem which neither father nor daughter could solve.

Two days later Elma and her father went down to Farncombe Towers, Mr Sandys having already taken preliminary steps for the purpose of floating the Emerald Mines of Morocco. There were rumours in the City concerning it, and a great deal of interest was being taken in the scheme in very influential quarters.

Rex Rutherford had not before been to Farncombe, therefore he was now invited. Now that old Norton Homfray was dead he accepted, and spent most of the time rambling with Elma either in the gardens, the park, or the surrounding woods, though she did all in her power to avoid his loathsome caresses.

Elma, unknown to Rutherford, managed to call at the Rectory. On inquiring of Mrs Bentley regarding Roddy, the old woman explained that he had returned from abroad, slept one night there, and had gone out next day and had not come back. She knew that he had gone to Guildford, but that was all.

"And there's been a young lady here wanting to see him, miss."

"A young lady! Who?"

"She's a Miss Manners."

"Miss Manners!" Elma echoed. "Describe her."

The woman did so, and Elma stood open-mouthed.

"She was here again three days ago," Mrs Bentley added. "And she seems so eager to see Mr Roddy."

"I must see Miss Manners," Elma shouted to the deaf old woman. "You have no idea where she lives, I suppose?"

"No. I think she comes from London."

"Well, next time she comes let me know at once. Or better, bring her up to the Towers to see me. It is most important that I should see her."