CHAPTER XXXIX
A deadly faintness came over Beatrice. Torn and distracted as she hadbeen of late, this last discovery was almost too much for her. She couldonly stand there with her hand upon her heart to still its passionatebeating.
Yes, it was her father, beyond the shadow of a doubt. How he got thereBeatrice could not possibly have told. He was looking much the same aswhen Beatrice had seen him last, save that his clothes were not so neatand he had not been shaved for some days. He seemed quite resigned tothe situation although his expression was cross and irritable. Hemotioned to Beatrice to shut the door.
"Why don't you close the door?" he demanded. "Suppose anybody saw me?"
Beatrice was getting back some of her self-possession by this time. Sheclosed the door and then took her seat on the edge of her father's bed.
"Why should you not be seen?" she asked. "What difference can itpossibly make? We have all been looking for you everywhere. Where haveyou been?"
"I'm not quite sure," was the strange reply. "But you seem to have lostsight of my peculiar situation, Beatrice. My head is a little strangeand confused, but I dare say it will come right presently. What happenedto me on the night of the dinner party?"
"I did not see that anything happened," Beatrice said. "I suppose youwent to bed in the ordinary way. I did not see that there wasanything----"
"You didn't notice that I had too much wine with my dinner?"
Beatrice was fain to admit that she had not noticed anything of thekind. She wondered how much her father really knew as to what hadhappened.
"There has been a great deal of fuss," Sir Charles said. He proceeded todress himself in certain old clothes and took up a beard and spectaclesfrom the dressing table. Beatrice watched him with a growing feelingthat he had taken leave of his senses.
"Why are you going to use those things?" she asked.
"Because it is absolutely necessary," Sir Charles said irritably. "Icame here in this disguise to pick out certain things that I needed. Akind friend furnished this disguise, and also money for me to get away."
"But why do you want to get away?" Beatrice asked, more puzzled thanever.
"My dear child, your memory must be sadly defective," Sir Charles saidsharply. "You seem to forget that I am in great difficulties. Richfordwas going to put me right, but Richford is dead. It is just my luck."
"Who told you that?" Beatrice asked. "Why it was only tonight----"
"My dear, there was a gentleman outside the hotel who told somebodyelse. Richford was arrested at the house of a friend of mine; I saw thething done. Then I realized that my position was desperate. You see Ihave been stopping at Wandsworth with a friend for the last two or threedays."
Beatrice began to understand a little. The cunning nature of the plotwas beginning to unfold itself before her.
"The name of that friend is Mr. Carl Sartoris, I suppose?" Beatriceasked.
"That's the man. Though I cannot see how you came to know that. I metSartoris before on business. He wanted me to sell him some rubbishy RubyMines concessions that Lord Edward Decie and myself procured years ago.I refused to take his money then; it did not seem fair. Besides I was infunds at the time."
Beatrice could hardly refrain from smiling at the naive confession.
"I should like to hear more about that," she said.
"I was just coming to it," Sir Charles went on. "I must have taken toomuch wine on that night; I seemed to sleep for days. When I came tomyself I was in a strange room, with a doctor bending over me."
"A tall man with a beard? A man who carries drink all over him?"Beatrice asked.
"That is the fellow," Sir Charles said with obvious surprise, "thoughhow you could know all these things puzzles me. Name of Bentwood.Sartoris was in the room, too. He told me that I had been foundwandering about, and he told me that I was in danger of immediatearrest. When I suggested sending for Richford, he said that Richford hadcome to grief, and that the police were after him. Altogether, my dearchild, my situation was not one to be envied."
"I quite understand that," Beatrice said, not without sarcasm.
"My dear, it was dreadful. Richford had come to grief. So far as I knewto the contrary, my only child was mated to a felon. Think of my mentalagony!"
"I don't think we need dwell on that," Beatrice said with some traces ofscorn in her voice. "You always knew that Stephen Richford was ascoundrel. He was not the less of a scoundrel because he could give me aposition as the wife of a rich man, and because he could free you from agreat and terrible danger. My mental agony counted for something too."
"I should think it did," Sir Charles said pompously. "I find that youwere married, that all the papers were talking of my strangedisappearance. Strangely enough, I never could get a sight of a dailynewspaper. I don't know why. At any rate, you were married. Richford hadcome to grief, and thus was in hourly expectation of arrest. It was atthis point that my friend Carl Sartoris came in. He kept me safe, heinsisted upon giving me L500 for those concessions, which really was adelicate way of finding me the money to leave the country. Everythingwas arranged for my departure when the police came to the house of myfriend Sartoris and took _him_ off also. Directly I found that out, thatsomething was wrong there, I crept away from the house, and here I am."
Sir Charles held out his hands helplessly. He always expected otherpeople to do things for him. Beatrice began to see her side of the case.Richford was dead, and the large sum of money that he had promised SirCharles was no longer available. And Beatrice recalled the night of thedinner party, when her father had taken her to the window, and had shownher the two men watching silently below. The danger was just as greatas ever; it was just as imperative that Sir Charles should leave thecountry.
Out of the whirling emotion in Beatrice's head order began to berestored. Everybody, so far as the girl knew, believed her father to bedead. The body had been spirited away for some reason known to Sartorisand his colleagues; nobody ever expected to see Sir Charles again. If hecould slip out of the country now, and go abroad, the danger would beaverted. Beatrice began to see her way to manage the thing.
"I will do what I can," she said. "You have that L500 intact? Very good.But there are some things that I am bound to tell you. People who are ina position to know, say that your mining concessions are very valuableindeed."
"Worth absolutely nothing," Sir Charles said. "Tried it before. Besides,if they were worth a lot of money, it is impossible to work the mine.The country is too disturbed and dangerous for anything of that kind.Besides, I have sold the concessions, and there is an end of it. Evenwithout a business mind you can see that."
"All the same, I feel pretty sure that I am right," Beatrice said. "Mydear father, you have been the victim of a strange conspiracy. You hadnot taken too much wine that night, but you were drugged by some mineralor vegetable in such a manner that the next day you were taken for dead.I did not know that fact till I was married; indeed, the news was keptfrom me and brought to me at church. The man whom you regard as yourbenefactor wanted certain papers of yours, and the doctor, Bentwood, wasgoing to do the drugging. It was done too well; you were regarded asdead. Then, for some reason or other, probably because it was necessaryfor you to sign certain papers--your body was stolen, and you weretaken, still in a state like death, to the house of Carl Sartoris atWandsworth."
"God bless my soul, you don't really mean it?" Sir Charles cried.
"Indeed I do," Beatrice went on. "This Bentwood is a doctor who is anexpert in the miracles and the hocus pocus of the East. The drug theyadministered to you is not known in England; the thing has never beenseen here. I understand that they could have kept you in a state ofsuspended animation as long as they pleased. But they desired to see youin the flesh again so that you could sign that paper relating to thosemines."
"I signed the paper this very morning," Sir Charles cried. "But I don'tunderstand it all. Begin at the beginning and tell me all over again."
Beatrice did so, but it
was a long time before her father appeared tocomprehend. When he did so he was utterly incapable of seeing what CarlSartoris had had in his mind.
"I can see that they didn't want to murder me," he said. "A_post-mortem_ would have prevented that part of the scheme that requiredmy signature--hence the daring theft of my body. But the main thing isthat I have made L500 by the transaction."
Beatrice's lip curled scornfully.
"I had hoped that you would have taken another view of the case," shesaid. "I am afraid that you will never alter, father. Richford is dead,and I am free from him. Sartoris is dead, also, so we shall never knowwhat his ultimate designs were. I don't see that you can keep that moneyunder the circumstances, father."
Sir Charles was emphatically of a different opinion. Besides, as hepointedly put it, how was he going to get away without funds?
"I had forgotten that side of the matter," Beatrice said. "But I am notwithout friends. There is Mark Ventmore, for instance. If I were to askhim----"
"You are not to do anything of the kind," Sir Charles said angrily. "Howon earth am I going to restore this money to Sartoris when the poorfellow is dead? He may not have a single relative in the world, for allI know. The money is honestly mine, and it is sufficient to take me outof this accursed country where detectives are waiting for me at everycorner. And now you want to bring Mark Ventmore into it."
"Mark is the soul of honour," Beatrice said. "I am sure that he----"
"Has been in the past a confounded nuisance," Sir Charles interrupted."It looks as if he were going to be just as much trouble in the future."
"He is the man I am going to marry," Beatrice said quietly. "I offeredmy life to save you and your good name, and a merciful providencereleased me from the sacrifice. Next time, I please myself. I shallnever marry anybody but Mark."
"Of course you won't," Sir Charles said, in an aggrieved voice. "If youhad never seen Mark Ventmore you would have been married to Richford ayear ago, in which case I should not stand in my present awkwardposition. But we are only wasting time. Help me on with this beard andthen walk as far as the hall with me. Then you can give me a kiss, andI'll take a cab and give you my blessing."
Beatrice said nothing. She would keep his secret. And all the worldshould hear that Sir Charles had been the victim of a calamity thatcould not be solved.
The Slave of Silence Page 39
