CHAPTER XXVI
The venerable-looking old cleric sat there for the better part of anhour in the patient attitude of one who waits for a friend, but thoughhe puzzled his cunning brain he could see no way out of the difficulty.He had no money, and the police were after him. He recognised only toowell that he had to thank Sartoris for this--he had measured his cunningagainst that of the little cripple, and he had failed. He had played forthe greater part of the stake that was at the bottom of the mystery, andhe had paid the penalty. Bitterly he regretted his folly now.
Presently, his humming brain began to clear. He saw one or two peoplethere whom he knew; he saw Beatrice come down to the office and go outpresently, with a little flat case under her arm. Richford's eyesgleamed, and a glow of inspiration thrilled him.
"As sure as fate she has the diamonds," he told himself. "She is afraidthat I should hit upon some scheme for getting them, and she is going todispose of them in some hiding-place. I'll follow her. Courage, myboy--the game is not up yet."
As a matter of fact, Richford had summed up the situation correctly. Insome vague way Beatrice was a little alarmed. She had heard of suchthings as injunctions and the like. Suppose the law stepped in toprotect the rogue, as the law does sometimes. And Beatrice had somethingelse to do, for she had read Berrington's letter, and she had made upher mind to go to Wandsworth without delay. But first of all she wouldwalk as far as the old family jewellers in Bond Street and deposit thestones there. She had every faith in the head of the firm, whom thefamily had dealt with for so many years.
No sooner had Beatrice stepped out of the hotel than Mary Sartoris cameback. She proceeded quietly up the stairs to find Adeline alone in theroom of her mistress. The girl blushed as Mary put the question thatrose naturally to her lips.
"I'm very sorry, miss," the girl stammered; "but I forgot all about yourmessage and the letter. I left the letter on the table, and my mistresshas just gone out."
"Did she get the letter before she went?" Mary asked quickly.
"Well, yes, I suppose so, miss," was the reply, "seeing that the letteris no longer on the table. I suppose that my mistress has got it. Shemust have done so, for the envelope is in the grate."
Sure enough, the envelope with the forged handwriting of Berrington uponit lay in the grate. Mary was too mortified to speak for the moment,besides there was no occasion to tell the maid anything.
"I'm sorry you were so careless," she said. "Did your mistress go outalone?"
"I believe so," the contrite Adeline said. "She had a visitor, an oldclergyman who----"
But Mary was not listening, she was only thinking of Beatrice's danger.At the same time she had a clear recollection of the old clergyman, forhe had pushed past her into the hotel at the moment when she wasleaving the building for the first time.
She went out into the street which was dark by this time. She would takea cab to Wandsworth at once and get there before Beatrice came. Butthere was no cab in sight, so that Mary had to walk some little way. Atthe corner of the road she stopped and hesitated for a moment. Close bystood the well-dressed couple who had imposed themselves upon Beatriceunder the guise of Countess de la Moray and General Gastang.
Whatever were they doing here, just now, Mary wondered? Just for themoment it flashed across her mind that they were prying upon hermovements. But another idea occurred to her, as the two were accosted bythe old clergyman that Mary had seen before, and who had been a visitorto Beatrice Richford such a little time previously.
She saw the man raise his hat politely at some question from theclergyman, then she saw his face change to a startled expression, andinstantly Mary understood.
"I know who it is," she said half aloud. "It is Stephen Richford indisguise. He has been to see his wife. I should like to know what theyare talking about."
The trio were talking very earnestly indeed now. Just for the moment ithad looked as if the man called Reggie and the woman called Cora haddecided to give Richford the cold shoulder. But he had said a few words,and the scene was suddenly changed. The three walked off together andturned into a small restaurant a little way down the street.
Moved by a feeling which she would have had some trouble to explain,Mary followed. In some vague way she felt that Beatrice was in danger.The restaurant was by no means a fashionable one, and few people werethere. Mary noticed, too, that the inside was divided into compartmentsin the old-fashioned way. She stepped into the box next the one wherethe three conspirators were seated and ordered a cup of tea. It was asatisfaction to the girl to know that she could hear all that was beingsaid in the other box. She heard the popping of a champagne cork,speedily followed by another. She had only to sit there and listen. Shehad forgotten all about Beatrice by this time.
"Wine like that puts life into a man," she heard Richford say.
"And gives him a tongue too," the man called Reggie laughed. "Deadlyexpensive stuff unless you can see some reasonable return for youroutlay in the near future. Come, Richford, we are both eager to know howyou propose to put money into our pockets."
"And yet I can put a lot," Richford said. "Oh, you need not be afraid ofthat crooked little devil at Wandsworth, for he shall not know anythingabout it. What do you say to L10,000 apiece and nobody any the wiser?Doesn't that make your mouth water?"
"It would if you could show me the way," Reggie said. "But in the mostdelicate way possible, my dear Richford, let me put it to you--that youare under a cloud at present. And why do you offer to divide the plunderin this very irrational way?"
"Simply because I _am_ under a cloud," Richford growled. "I'm powerlessand desperate. I don't even know where to turn for a night's lodging.Now look here, the matter may take a day or two, and in the meantimeI've got to put up somewhere. And as a warrant of my good faith, I'm notgoing to ask you for any money. All I require is food and a bed andshelter, and that you may very well give me at Edward Street. Sartorisnever goes there."
"Make it worth while and the thing's done," Reggie said. "Give it aname."
"Well, suppose we call it diamonds?" Richford suggested. "Have youforgotten those magnificent diamonds that I gave my wife, bless her, fora wedding present?"
A little gasp came from the listeners. It was evident to Richford thathe had struck the right chord, for he proceeded with more confidence.
"I gave my dear wife stones worth nearly, if not quite, L40,000," hesaid. "I didn't hand over that little lot altogether out ofdisinterested affection. A man who takes risks, as I do, is pretty sureto come up against a financial crisis sooner or later, only it has beensooner in this case. Though my wife chose to ignore me, I left thestones in her possession because, being my wife, no creditor could layhands upon those gems. I went to her to-day and asked for them. Ofcourse I did not anticipate any difficulty whatever; I expected that shewould cock that imperially haughty nose of hers in the air and hand themover to me as if I were dirt beneath her feet. To my astonishment sheutterly refused to do anything of the kind."
"Unkind," the woman Cora laughed; "and yet so like a modern wife. Hadshe pawned them?"
"Not she! I was fool enough to say something that was not quitecomplimentary of my creditors, and she refused to part with the stonesanyhow. Said that they would go to pay my debts. I threatened violenceand all kinds of things, but it was no good. I said that unless I hadmoney in forty-eight hours I should be in jail, but it was all to noeffect. Did you ever hear anything so maddening in all your life?"
"You have my deepest sympathy," Reggie said; "but you did not bring ushere to listen to a story that has no point to it like yours. You havegot some scheme in your head for getting hold of the stones. But youcan't do it alone."
"If I could should I be such a cursed fool as to bring you two in?"Richford growled. "But I--but I can't appear. All I can do is to showyou the way and trust to your honour to give me a third of the plunderwhen it is turned into cash."
"Hadn't you better get to the point?" Reggie suggested with undisguisedeagerness.
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"I'm coming to that. After my interview with my wife I sat in the halltrying to pull myself together. Presently I saw her ladyship come downand go to the office. Those diamonds had been deposited in the hotelsafe for obvious reasons. My wife came out of the office presently withthe case in her hand. Then I recognized what had happened. She wasafraid of some move of mine, and she was going to deposit the stoneselsewhere. It did not take me long to make up my mind where she wasgoing. She was about to take the plunder to Hilton in Bond Street."
"How long ago?" the woman called Cora asked eagerly. "This isimportant."
"Well, not more than an hour, anyway," Richford replied. "Why do youask?"
"Because Hilton closes at five," the woman said. "I know that, becausethe firm has done several little jobs for me lately. You may be prettysure that your wife did not deposit those stones at Hilton's to-day;therefore she still has them in her pocket. That being so, what we haveto do now is to discover where she has gone. If you like I'll go roundto the _Royal Palace Hotel_ at once and see if she has returned. I'llask the clerk in the office, and if he says she has returned, you maysafely bet that those stones are back in the hotel safe again. If shehas not returned, they are still on her person."
"It's just as well to make sure," Reggie said reflectively.
The woman flitted away and came back soon with a smile on her face.
"So far, so good," she said. "The lady has not returned to the hotel.Now, Mr. Richford, if you can only put us on the track of the timidlittle hare, then----"
"Done with the greatest possible ease," Richford replied. "She's gone toWandsworth. I can't make the thing out at all, and in any case it doesnot in the least matter. When I was waiting for my wife just now I saw aletter to her from Berrington,--Colonel Berrington. As you know, he is aprisoner in Audley Place, and why he should have written that letter, orhow Sartoris persuaded the warrior to write it, I don't know any morethan Adam. But that's where she has gone. If you can intercept herbefore she gets there, or waylay her when she leaves, why there you are.I don't suppose my wife will tell Sartoris that she has all that stuffin her pocket."
"Do you think that she took a cab?" Reggie asked.
"I should say not. Cabs cost money, and Beatrice has not much of that.Wandsworth is not a place you can get to in ten minutes, especiallyafter the business trains have ceased running for the evening; so thatif you took a cab----"
Reggie jumped to his feet excitedly.
"No use wasting time here," he said. "Come along, Cora. I'll justscribble a few lines on one of my cards, so that you can be safe atEdward Street. There you are. And if I don't get those stones beforebedtime, why I'm a bigger fool than the police take me for."
Thrilling with excitement, Mary followed the others into the street. Shesaw the two get into a cab, and she proceeded to take one herself. Thecabman looked at her dubiously as he asked where he was to go to.
"No. 100, Audley Place, Wandsworth Common," Mary said. "If you get thereten minutes before the cab in front, I'll give you an extrahalf-sovereign."
The Slave of Silence Page 26
