CHAPTER XXXI
Somebody was knocking quietly at the door, and Sartoris had made noeffort to move. That was the situation in which we left Sartoris andBerrington before Beatrice came. Nobody could have failed to notice thathe was greatly disturbed and agitated. With a feeling that he was goingto learn something, Berrington turned as if to leave the room.
"I am going to save you the trouble of going," he said.
Sartoris clasped his hands to his head. He was still throbbing andaching all over from the ill effect of the treatment accorded him by theBurmese visitors. Berrington had come down in the nick of time and savedhim from a terrible fate, but Sartoris was not feeling in the leastgrateful. To a certain extent he was between the devil and the deep sea.Desperately as he was situated now, he could not afford to dismissBerrington altogether. To do that would be to bring the authorities downupon him in double quick time. True, Berrington, out of his deepaffection for Mary, might give him as much rope as possible. And again,Sartoris did not quite know how far Berrington was posted as to therecent course of events. True, Berrington suspected him of knowingsomething of the disappearance of the body of Sir Charles, but Sartorisdid not see that he could prove anything.
But he did not want Berrington to go just yet, and he was still moreanxious that the Colonel should not know who was knocking at the door.Unless his calculations were very wide of the mark, it was BeatriceRichford who was seeking admission. Sartoris would have given much toprevent those two meeting.
He smiled, though he was beside himself, almost, with passion. He seemedto have become very weak and impotent all at once. He would have tosimulate an emotion that he did not possess. Once more there came thetimid knock at the door.
"Berrington," he said desperately. "Do you believe that there is anygood in me?"
The question was asked in almost a pleading voice. But Berrington wasnot in the least moved. He knew perfectly well what he had to deal with.Again, the knock at the door.
"I should say not a fragment," Berrington said critically. "I should saythat you are utterly bad to the core. I have just saved you from aterrible fate which really ought to be a source of the greatest possibleregret to me, but you are not in the least grateful. When that knockcame for the first time, you looked at me with murder in your eyes. I amin your way now, I am possibly on the verge of an important discovery.If you could kill me with one look and destroy my body with another youwould do it without hesitation. And that is the reason, my good friend,why I am going to the door."
"Don't," Sartoris implored. He had become mild and pleading. "You arequite wrong--Berrington; I once heard you say that there was good ineverybody."
"Generally," Berrington admitted. "But you are an exception that provesthe rule."
"Indeed I am not. There is good in me. I tell you and I am going to do akind and disinterested action to-night. I swear that if you interfereyou will be the cause of great unhappiness in a certain household inwhich I am interested. I implore you not to let your idle curiositybring about this thing. I appeal to you as a gentleman."
In spite of himself Berrington was touched. He had never regardedSartoris as anything of an actor, and he seemed to be in deadly earnestnow. Was it just possible that the man had it in him to do a kindlything? If so it seemed a pity to thwart him. Berrington looked fairlyand squarely into the eyes of the speaker, but they did not waver in theleast. The expression of Sartoris's face was one of hopelessness, notfree altogether from contempt.
"I can't say any more," he said. "Open the door by all means, and spoileverything. It is in your hands to do so and curse your own vulgarcuriosity afterwards. Call me mad if you like, but I had planned to do akind thing to-night."
"So that you may benefit from it in the end?" Berrington suggested.
"Well, put it that way if you like," Sartoris said with fineindifference. "But it does not matter. You can sit down again. Theknocker has gone, evidently."
But the door sounded again. Sartoris turned aside with a sigh. Despitehis suspicions, Berrington felt that his conscience was troubling him.He would never forgive himself if he prevented a kind action being doneto one who cruelly needed it. He rose and crossed the room.
"Let it be as you like," he said. "I will promise not to interfere. Assoon as you have finished I should like to have a few words with youhere. After that I shall feel free to depart."
Sartoris nodded, but the triumph that filled him found no expression onhis face. Berrington was no better than a fool, after all; a few fairwords had disarmed him. Sartoris would gain all he wanted and when thatwas done he would take good care that Berrington did not leave thehouse. The man was by no means at the end of his cunning resources yet.He moved his chair in the direction of the hall.
"You have made a very wise decision," he said. "And I thank you forhaving some confidence in me. Will you wait for me in the dining-room?"
Berrington intimated that he would go into the dining-room and smoke acigar. He was free to depart now, but he was going to do nothing of thekind. Sartoris was likely to be engaged for some time, and meanwhileBerrington was able to make investigations. He was desirous of findingout the secret of the dining-room, the way in which things were changedthere, and the like. Of course, it had all been done by human agency,and what one man can invent another can find out. There was not likelyto be a more favourable opportunity.
Berrington stepped into the dining-room and closed the door behind him.But he closed it with his hand hard on the turned lock so that it shouldsound as if it had banged to, whereas, directly the handle was releasedit would fall open a little way. Berrington was not going to leaveanything to chance, and he had no hesitation in playing the spy.
From where he stood he could hear the wheels of Sartoris's chairrattling over the parquet flooring of the hall, he heard the front dooropen, and the timid voice of a girl speaking. It did not sound like thevoice of anybody with evil intent, and just for an instant it occurredto Berrington that perhaps his suspicions had been misplaced.
But only for an instant, until the voice spoke again. He had nodifficulty now in recognising the voice as that of Beatrice Richford.Berrington was a little staggered, for he had not expected this. He hadtotally forgotten the letter, but it came flashing back to his mind now,and Mary's promise that no harm should come of it.
And yet Mary had either overestimated her powers or placed too low avalue on the cunning of her brother. At any rate, there could be nodoubt of the fact that the letter had been delivered, and that Beatricewas here in reply to it.
"Very good," Berrington said between his teeth. "I will see that no harmcomes of this thing. Beatrice has been brought here to be pumped as toher father's papers and the like. Still, thanks to my little adventureto-night I have a pretty good idea what these scoundrels are after. I'lljust go as far as the study and see that it is all right."
Berrington slipped off his boots and crept along the hall. So far as hecould see all was quiet. There was a double door to the study, so thatBerrington could not hear much, but the inner door had not been closed.It was only necessary to swing back the baize door to hear all that wastaking place in the study.
But Berrington decided that he would leave that for the present. Itmattered very little what Sartoris said to Beatrice, for the gist of theconversation could easily be gathered from the girl on some futureoccasion. But opportunities for examining that strange dining-room didnot offer themselves at every hour, and Berrington made up his mind tomake the best of it. He pulled on his boots again, and set to work.
For some time there was nothing to reward his search. The carpetappeared to be intact, the table a solid structure of mahogany. And yetthere must be some means of moving that table up and down, much in thesame way as the thing used to be done in the case of a certain Frenchking and the lady of his affections.
But there was absolutely nothing here to show that anything of the kindhad been done. Berrington removed the flowers and the table cloth andlooked underneath. So far without su
ccess. He rapped in a reflective wayon the solid legs and they gave back a clear ringing sound. With a smileof satisfaction, Berrington took a pocket knife from his vest.
Then he bent down and slightly scraped one of the solid-looking legs.The edge of the knife turned up and a thin strip of bright gold showedbeneath the vanish. The first discovery had been made. The legs of thetable were of hollow metal.
There was something to go on with at any rate. Dining tables do not havelegs made of hollow metal for nothing. Berrington tried to push thetable aside, so that he could tilt it up and see the base of the legs,but the structure refused to budge an inch. Here was discovery numbertwo. The table was bolted solidly into the floor.
"We are getting on," Berrington whispered to himself. "It seems to methat I need not worry myself any further about the table itself, seeingthat, so to speak, it is attached to the freehold. It is the floor thatI have to look to."
But the floor appeared to be quite intact. There were no seams along theTurkey carpet. Berrington turned the carpet back as far as it would go,but nothing suspicious presented itself to his searching eye. As hedropped the carpet back his foot touched the curb of the fireplace, andone end slid along. It seemed a curious thing that one end of the oldoak curb should work on a pivot, but so it did, and Berrington pushed itas far as it would go. An instant later and he jumped nimbly into thefireplace.
It was just as well he did so, for the whole floor was slowly fadingaway, just up to the edge of the carpet, leaving the brown boards aroundintact. By accident more than anything else Berrington had stumbled onthe secret. The pressure of a foot on the curb had set some hidden leverin motion; the clever machinery was doing the rest.
Standing in the fireplace Berrington watched for the effect. The floorsank away as if working on a pivot; it came around with the other sideup, and on the other side was a carpet quite similar to the first inpattern. There was also another table which came up on a swingingbalance so that everything on it would not be disturbed.
"Well, this is a pretty fine Arabian Nights' form of entertainment,"Berrington muttered. "I wonder if I can keep the thing half suspendedlike that whilst I examine the vault beneath. I suppose if I push thelever half back it will remain stationary. That's it!" The lever beingpushed half back caused the machinery to lock so that the floor was allon the slant. There was a kind of space below which appeared to be pavedand bricked like a well. Into this the full rays of the electric lightshone. It was easy to jump down there and examine the place, andBerrington proceeded to do so.
So far as he could see there was a heap of old clothes huddled togetherin a corner. In an idle way Berrington turned them over. A collar fellout from the rest and Berrington took it up--a white collar that hadbeen worn for some little time. Berrington started as his eye fell onthe name plainly set out in marking ink.
"Great Scott," he cried. "Why it is one of Sir Charles Darryll's!"
The Slave of Silence Page 31
