waswith Charlie, she told me."
"And where is Charlie?"
"Gone to Servia. He left Charing Cross by the mail last night."
Max reflected that his friend had not left as his sister supposed.
"And where did you leave Maud?"
"I walked to the `tube' station at Piccadilly Circus, and left herthere. She went to Earl's Court Station, and I took a bus home. Shetold me that you'd been to see the Doctor earlier in the evening. Butwhy do you ask all this?"
"Because--well, because, Marion, something unusual has occurred," hereplied.
"Unusual!" she echoed. "What do you mean?"
"Did Maud tell you anything about her future movements last night--ormention her father's intentions?"
"Intentions of what?"
"Of leaving the house in Cromwell Road."
"No; she told me nothing. Only--"
"Only what?"
"Well, it struck me that she had something on her mind. You know howbright and merry she usually is. Well, last night she seemed verythoughtful, and I wondered whether she had had any little differencewith Charlie."
"You mean that they may have quarrelled?"
"I hardly think that likely," she said, quickly. "Charlie is far toofond of her, as you know."
"And her father does not altogether approve of it," Max remarked. "Hehas told me so."
"Poor Charlie!" the girl said, for she was very fond of her brother. Hewas always a good friend to her, and gave her money to buy her dressesand purchase the few little luxuries which her modest stipend as ashop-assistant would not allow her to otherwise possess. "I'm sure he'sdevoted to Maud. And she's one of the best girls I know. They'd make aperfect pair. But the Doctor's a foreigner, and doesn't reallyunderstand Englishmen."
"Perhaps that's it," Max said, trying to assume a careless air, for hefelt that a hundred eyes were upon him.
Their position was not a very comfortable one, to say the least. Heknew that he ought not to have come there during business hours, but themystery had so puzzled him that he felt he must continue his inquiries.He had fully expected the morning post to bring him a line from theDoctor. But there had been nothing.
Both he and Maud had disappeared suddenly, leaving no trace behind--notrace except that woman's coat with the stain of blood upon the breast.
Was it one of Maud's dresses, he wondered. In the band he had noticedthe name of its maker--Maison Durand, of Conduit Street--one of the bestdressmakers in London. True he had found it in the servants' quarters,but domestics did not have their clothes made by Durand.
"But tell me, Max," said the girl, her fine eyes fixed upon her lover,"what makes you suggest that the Doctor is about to leave CromwellRoad."
"He has left already," was Max's reply. "That's the curious part ofit."
"Left! Moved away!"
"Yes. I came to ask you what you know about it. They've gone awaywithout a word!"
"How? Why, you were there last evening!"
"I was. But soon after I left, and while Maud was with you at theconcert, three vans came from Harmer's Stores and cleared out the wholeof the furniture."
"There wasn't a bill of sale, or something of that sort, I suppose?" shesuggested.
"Certainly not. The Doctor is a wealthy man. The copper mines ofKaopanik bring him in a splendid income in themselves," Max said. "No;there's a mystery--a very great mystery about the affair."
"A mystery! Tell me all about it!" she cried, anxiously, for Maud washer best friend, while the Doctor had also been _extremely_ kind to her.
"I don't know anything," he responded. "Except that the whole place byhalf-past ten last night had been cleared out of furniture. Only thegrand piano and a few big pieces have been left. Harmer's have takenthe whole of it to their depository at Chiswick."
"Well, that's most extraordinary, certainly," she said, opening her eyesin blank surprise. "Maud must have known what was taking place.Possibly that is why she was so melancholy and pensive."
"Did she say nothing which would throw any light upon their saddendisappearance?"
Marion reflected for a few moments, her brows slightly knit in thought.
"Well, she said something about her father being much worried, but shedid not tell me why. About a fortnight ago she told me that both sheand her father had many enemies, one of whom would not hesitate to killhim if a chance occurred. I tried to get from her the reason, but shewould not tell me."
"But you don't think that the Doctor has been the victim of an assassin,do you?" Max asked in apprehension.
"No; but Maud may have been," she answered. "Killed?"
"I hope not, yet--"
"Why do you hesitate, Marion, to tell me all you know?" he urged."There is a mystery here which we must fathom."
"My brother knows nothing yet, I suppose."
Barclay hesitated.
"I suppose not," was his reply.
"Then, before I say anything, I must see him."
"But he's away in Servia, is he not? He won't be back for six months."
"Then I must wait till he returns," she answered, decisively.
"Maud has told you something. Come, admit it," he urged.
The girl was silent for a full minute.
"Yes," she sighed. "She did tell me something."
"When?"
"Last night, as we were walking together to the station--something thatI refused to believe. But I believe it now."
"Then you know the truth," he cried. "If there had not been some unfairplay, the Doctor would never have disappeared without first telling me.He has many times entrusted me with his secrets."
"I quite believe that he would have telegraphed or written," she said."He looked upon you as his best friend in London."
"And, Marion, this very fact causes me to suspect foul play," he said,the recollection of that fugitive in the night flashing across hisbrain. "What do you, in the light of this secret knowledge, suspect?"
Her lips were closed tightly, and there was a strange look in her eyes.
"I believe, Max," she replied, in a low, hard voice, "that somethingterrible must have happened to Maud!"
"Did she apprehend something?"
"I cannot tell. She confessed to me something under a bond of secrecy.Before I tell you I must consult Charlie--the man she loved so dearly."
"But are we not lovers, Marion?" he asked, in a low intense voice."Cannot you tell me what she said, in order that I may instituteinquiries at once. Delay may mean the escape of the assassin if therereally has been foul play."
"I cannot betray Maud's confidence, Max," was her calm answer.
This response of hers struck him as implying that Maud had confessedsomething not very creditable to herself, something which she, as awoman, hesitated to tell him. If this were actually true, however, whyshould she reveal the truth to Maud's lover? Would she not rather hideit from him?
"But you will not see Charlie for months," he exclaimed, in dismay."What are we to do in the meantime?"
"We can only wait," she answered. "I cannot break my oath to myfriend."
"Then you took an oath not to repeat what she told you?"
"She told me something amazing concerning--"
And she hesitated.
"Concerning herself," he added. "Well?"
"It was a confession, Max--a--a terrible confession. I had not a winkof sleep last night for her words rang in my ears, and her face, wildand haggard, haunted me in the darkness. Ah! it is beyond credence--horrible!--but--but, Max--leave me. These people are noticing us. Iwill see you to-night, where you like. Only go--go! I can't bear totalk of it! Poor Maud! What that confession must have cost her! Andwhy? Ah, I see it all now! Because--because she knew that her end wasnear!"
CHAPTER SEVEN.
CONTAINS SEVERAL REVELATIONS.
Max Barclay re-traced his steps along Oxford Street much puzzled. WhatMarion had told him was both startling and curious in face of the suddend
isappearance of the Doctor and his daughter. If the latter had made aconfession, as she apparently had, then Marion was, after all, perfectlywithin her right in not betraying her friend.
Yet what could that confession be? Marion had said it was "a terribleconfession," and as he went along he tried in vain to imagine itsnature.
The morning was bright and sunlit, and Oxford Street was already busy.About the Circus the ebb and flow of traffic had already begun,
The Pauper of Park Lane Page 7
