by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER XV
AT "THE CEDARS"
Zoe was nonplussed. She was unable to believe that this deserted placewas the spot referred to by Severac Bablon. She still clung to the ideathat there must be some mistake, though she had the evidence of her owneyes that the cottage was called Laurel Cottage.
The notion of writing a note and slipping it through the letter-box cameto her. But she remembered that there was no letter-box. Then, such acourse might be dangerous.
She looked gratefully towards the beam of light from the cab lamps. Thesolitude was getting on her nerves. Yes, she determined, she _would_write a note, and put it under the door. She need not sign it.
With that determination, she returned to where the taxi-man waited.
"Find it all right, miss?"
"Yes, but there's no one at home. I want to write a note and I shouldlike you to go and slip it under the door for me. It is so lonely there,it has made me feel quite nervous. I can mind the cab!"
The man smiled and touched his cap. Taxi-men are possessed ofintuitions; and this one knew perfectly well that he had a good fare andone that would pay him well enough for his trouble.
"Certainly, miss, with pleasure."
"Have you a piece of paper and a pencil?"
The man tore a leaf from a notebook and handed Zoe a pencil. Using thebook as a pad, she, by the light of the near-side lamp, wrote:
"Your meeting at The Cedars known to Mr. Alden. Don't go."
"It is such a tiny piece of paper," she said. "He--they may not see it."
"I believe I've got an envelope somewhere, miss. It's got the company'sname and address printed on it, and it won't be extra clean, but----"
"Oh, thank you! If you could find it----"
It was found, and proved to be even more dirty than the man's words hadindicated. Zoe enclosed the note, wetted a finger of her glove, andstuck down the lapel.
"Will you please put it under the door?"
"Yes, miss. Shan't be a minute."
He was absent but a few moments.
"Back to Charing Cross Station," directed Zoe, and got into the cabagain.
She had done her best. But, throughout the whole of the journey to theStrand, her mind was occupied with dire possibilities. It almost alarmedher, this too keen interest which she found herself taking in thefortunes of Severac Bablon.
At Charing Cross the taxi-man received a sovereign. It was more thandouble his fare. He knew, then, that his professional instincts had notmisled him, but that he had been driving an American millionairess.
In the foyer of the Astoria, Mary Evershed was waiting, with Mrs.Wellington Lacey in stately attendance. Mary was simply radiant. Shesprang forward to meet Zoe, both hands outsretched.
"Wherever have you been?" she cried.
"Picture show!" said Zoe, with composed mendacity, glancing at thearistocratic chaperon.
"I could not possibly wait until the morning," Mary ran on, her eyessparkling with excitement. "I had to run along here straight fromhorrid, stuffy Downing Street to tell you. Dick has inherited afortune."
"What!" said Zoe, and grasped both her friend's hands. "Inherited afortune!"
"Well--not quite a fortune, perhaps--five thousand pounds."
And John Jacob Oppner's daughter, a real chum to the core, never evensmiled. For she knew what five thousand pounds meant to these two, knewthat it meant more than five _hundred_ thousands meant to her; since itmeant the difference between union and parting, between love and loss,meant that Sir Richard Haredale could now shake off the fetters thatbound him, and look the world in the face.
"Oh, Mary," she said, and her pretty eyes were quite tearful. "How very,very glad I am! Isn't it just great! It sounds almost too good to betrue! Come right upstairs and tell me all about it!"
In Zoe's cosy room the story was told, not a romantic one in itsessentials, but romantic enough in its potential sequel. A remote auntwas the benefactress; and her death, news of which had been communicatedto Sir Richard that evening, had enriched him by five thousand poundsand served to acquaint him, at its termination, with the existence of arelation whom he had never met and rarely heard of.
Mr. Oppner came in towards the close of the story, and offered drycongratulations in that singular voice which seemed to have beenpreserved, for generations, in sand.
"He ought to invest it," he said. "Runeks are a good thing."
"You see," explained Mary. "He hasn't actually got it yet, only thesolicitor's letter. And he says he will be unable to believe in his goodluck until the money is actually in the bank!"
"Never let money lie idle," preached Oppner. "Banks fatten on suchfoolishness. Look at Hague. Ain't _he_ fat?"
Though it must have been imperceptible to another, Zoe detected, in herfather's manner, a suppressed excitement; and augured from it a beliefthat the capture of Severac Bablon was imminent.
However, when Mary was gone, Mr. Oppner said nothing of the matterwhich, doubtless, occupied his mind, and Zoe felt too guilty to broachthe subject. They retired at last, without having mentioned the name ofSeverac Bablon.
Zoe found sleep to be impossible, and lay reading until long past oneo'clock. But when the book dropped from her hands, she slept soundly anddreamlessly.
In the morning she scanned her mail anxiously. But there was nothing toshow that her warning had been received. Could it be that Severac Bablonhad suddenly deserted the cottage for some reason, and that he wouldto-night walk, blindly, into the trap prepared for him?
She was anxious to see her father. And his manner, at breakfast, butdimly veiled an evident exultation. He ate very little, leaving her atthe table, with one of his dry though not unkindly apologies, to go offwith the stoical Mr. Alden.
If only she had a friend in whom she might confide, whose advice shemight seek. Zoe laughed a little to think how excited she was on behalfof Severac Bablon and how placidly she surveyed the possibility of herfather's being relieved of a huge sum of money.
"That's the worst of knowing Pa's so rich!" she mused philosophically.
The morning dragged wearily on. Noon came. Nothing and nobody interestedZoe. She went to be measured for a gown and could not support the tediumof the operation.
"Send someone to the Astoria to-morrow," she said. "I just can't standhere any longer."
In the afternoon she called upon Sheila Vignoles, but everyone, fromLord Vignoles to the butler, irritated her. She came away with aheadache. With the falling of dusk, her condition grew all butinsupportable. Her father had been absent all day. She had met no onewho would be likely to know anything about the night's expedition.
She sat looking out from her window at the Embankment, where lights werenow glowing, point after point, through the deepening gloom.
It was as she stood there, vainly wondering what was going forward, thather father, his spare figure enveloped in a big motor coat, his cappulled down upon his brow, walked along Richmond High Street beside Mr.Alden.
"By the time we get there," said the latter, rolling the inevitablecheroot from one corner of his mouth to the other, "it will be darkenough for our purpose. It's a warm night, and dry, which is fortunate,and I've marked a place right opposite the gate where we can lie allsnug until we're wanted."
"Can you rely on Sullivan's men?"
"He's sending eight of the best. At his office, this afternoon I wentover a plan of the place with them. It's impossible to march a troop upto the house to reconnoitre. They know exactly what they've got to do.It will be covered all around. A cat won't be able to come out of TheCedars, sir, without being noted!"
"Yep. And when we march up to the door?"
"Directly it's opened," explained Alden patiently, "I'll _hold_ it open!Then, in go five Sullivan men, Martin and you. But there'll still be aman covering every egress from the house. If anybody tries to get outthere'll be someone to hold him up and to whistle for more help if it'sneeded."
"Seems all right," said Oppner; "if we don't get loaded up wi
th lead. Isthis place much further? We seem to have been walkin' up this blame hillfor hours."
"See that white milestone? Well, the first gate is fifty yards beyond,on the right."
"Have the crowd arrived yet?"
"Some of them. They're drafting up singly and in couples. There ought tobe four on the river side of the place by now, and Martin waitingsomewhere around the front."
"Four to come, yet?"
"Yep. Two for the other gate of the drive, and two for the lane thatleads down to the river."
They plodded on in silence. Abreast of the milestone, but withoutstopping, Alden whistled softly.
He was answered from somewhere among the trees bordering the left of theroad.
"That's Martin!" he said. "Come on, Mr. Oppner, through this gap in thefence."
Mr. Oppner crawled, in undignified silence, through the gap indicated.
"You see," explained Alden's voice out of the gloom, "farther along areopen rails and dense bushes. That's where we're going to watch from.We'll see every soul that comes up."
"You're stone sure it's to-night they arranged?"
Patiently, Alden replied: "Stone sure."
"Because," drawled Oppner, stumbling along in the darkness, "this is notin my line."
"_Sss!_" came from close at hand.
Mr. Oppner started.
"That you, Martin?" from Alden.
"Yes; no one has gone in yet. But a ground floor room is lighted up, andalso the conservatory."
"Right."
There was a momentary faint gleam of light. Mr. Alden was consulting hiselectrically-lighted watch.
"Time they were all posted," he said. "Martin, do the rounds. Hustle!"
Martin was heard slipping away through the bushes. Then came silence.Oppner and Alden were now at a point directly opposite a gate, and infull view of the house. Many of the windows were illuminated.
"Does the lawn slope down to the towpath?" came Oppner's voice.
"Sure. There are men on the towpath."
Silence fell once more. From somewhere down the road, in the directionof Richmond, was wafted a faint tinkling sound. Oppner heard Aldenmoving.
"I'll have to leave you for a minute," said the detective. "Don't bescared if Martin comes back."
Without waiting for a reply, Alden departed. Mr. Oppner heard himbrushing against the bushes in passing. Crouching there uncomfortably,and looking out across the road to the gateway of The Cedars, Oppner sawa singular thing, a thing that made him wonder.
He saw Alden run swiftly across from the gap in the fence by which theyhad entered their hiding-place, to the gate opposite. He saw him run in.Then he disappeared. Whilst Oppner was thrashing his brains for asolution to this man[oe]uvre, a faint rattling sound drew his gaze downthe hill.
Someone was approaching on a bicycle!
Almost holding his breath, he watched. Nearer came the rider, andnearer. Immediately before the gate of The Cedars he dismounted. He wasa telegraph messenger.
At that moment Alden came strolling out, smoking his cigar and pullingon a pair of gloves.
"Hullo, boy!" he said; his voice was clearly audible to the listeningOppner. "Got a wire for me? I've been expecting it all the evening."
The boy opened his wallet, but with some hesitation.
"Dr. Phillips," continued Alden, "that right?"
The boy hesitated no longer.
"Phillips, yes, sir," he said, and handed the telegram to Alden.
With a nonchalant air which excited Mr. Oppner's admiration, Aldenwalked to a lamp some little distance away, tore open the yellowenvelope, and read the message.
"All right, boy," he said. "No reply. Here, catch!"
He tossed the boy a coin, and with a touch of genius which showed him tobe a really great detective, halted a moment, scratched his chin, and asthe boy again mounted his bicycle, re-entered the gate of The Cedars.
"That's real cute!" murmured Oppner.
The boy having ridden off, Alden slipped warily out on to the road, ranacross, and was lost to view. Presently a rustling in the bushes told ofhis return to Oppner's side.
"It's from Sheard," whispered the detective. "Our man must have writtenhim further particulars, same as he said he'd do. It just reads:'Detained. S.' But it was handed in at Fleet Street, and I haven't anydoubt who sent it."
"He's smart, is Sheard," said Mr. Oppner. "He smelled trouble, or maybehe got wise to us----"
_"Sss!"_
"That you, Martin?"--from Alden.
"All right. Everybody seems to be posted. They're all finely out ofsight, too."
"Good. The newspaper man isn't coming. See me get the wire?"
"Yes. I wonder if the rest will come."
"Hope so. I don't want to have to open the ball, because until somevisitors have gone in we haven't got any real evidence that SeveracBablon is there himself."
"Quiet," said Martin.
A measured tread proclaimed itself, drew nearer, and a policeman passedtheir hiding-place. When the regular footsteps had died away again:
"If _he_ knew who's leased The Cedars," murmured Alden, "he'd be asergeant sooner than he expects."
Which remark was the last contributed by any of the party for someconsiderable time. Alden's description of the road before The Cedars asa lonely one was fully justified. From the time of Martin's return untilthat when the big car drove up and turned into the drive, not a solitarypedestrian passed their hiding-place.
A laggard moon sailed out from a cloud-bank and painted the road whiteas far as the eye could follow it. Then came a breeze from the river, tosing drearily through the trees. In the intervals, when the breeze wasstill, its absence seemed in some way, to stimulate the watchers' powerof hearing, so that they could detect vague sounds which proceeded fromthe river. The creak of oars told of a late rower on the stream--a voicewas wafted up to them, to be drowned in the sighing of the leaves setswaying by the new breeze.
Then came the car.
The whirr of the motor announced its coming from afar off; but, soswiftly did it travel, that it was upon them a moment later. As it swungaround and on to the drive of The Cedars its number showed clearly.
"3509," said Martin. "That's Mr. Antony Elschild!"
"Gee!" said Oppner, and his sandy voice shook somewhat, perhaps owing tothe chill of the breeze. "This is getting real exciting!"
The car was delayed some little time before the door of the house, thendriven around, and out at the further gate of the drive. It returned bythe way it had come, racing down the hill at something considerablyexceeding the legal speed. The _thud-thud-thud_ of the motor died away,and became inaudible.
"I'm glad the police aren't with us, and yet sorry," said Oppner. "Thisis a whole-hog conspiracy properly. No wonder he was so hard to catch;look at the class of people he's got in with him! Think of Elschild!Gee! There's goin' to be a scene in a minute."
"For the present," said Alden, "we'll make no move; we'll just sittight. There's maybe a lot to arrive yet."
Just before the breeze came creeping up from the river again,_thud-thud-thud_ was borne to their ears. Another car was approaching.
