by Guy Thorne
CHAPTER SIX
I must now, in the progress of the story, give a brief account of what Imay call "The week of rumor," which immediately preceded mydisappearance and plunge into the unknown.
I spent a miserable and agitated evening at Cerne Hall, and went earlyto my room. Arthur and Pat joined me there an hour later and for sometime we talked over what the telegram from Morse might mean, until theyretired to their own rooms and I was left alone.
I did not sleep a wink--indeed, I made no effort to go to bed, though Itook off my clothes and wrapped myself in a dressing-gown. The suspensewas almost unbearable, and, failing further news, I determined, at anycost to the shooting plans of my host, to get myself recalled to Londonby telegram. I felt sure that the whole of my life's happiness was atstake.
The next morning at nine o'clock, just as I was preparing to go down tobreakfast, a long wire was brought to me. It was in our own officecipher, which I was trained to read without the key, and it was signedby Julia Dewsbury. The gist of the message was that there were strangerumors all over Fleet Street about the great towers at Richmond. Anenormous sensation was gathering like a thunder cloud in the world ofnews and would shortly burst. Would I come to London at the earliestpossible moment?
How I got out of Cerne Hall I hardly remember, but I did, to the blankastonishment of my host; drove to the nearest station, caught a trainwhich got me to Norwich in half an hour and engaged the swiftest car inthe city to run me up to London at top speed. Just after lunch I burstinto the office of the _Evening Special_.
Williams and Miss Dewsbury were expecting me.
"It's big stuff," said the acting editor excitedly, "and we ought to bein it first, considering that we've more definite information than Iexpect any other paper possesses as yet, though it won't be the case forvery long."
I sat down with hardly a word, and nodded to Miss Dewsbury. Her trainingwas wonderful. She had everything ready in order to acquaint me with thefacts in the shortest possible space of time.
She spoke into the telephone and Miss Easey--"Vera" of our "SocietyGossip"--came in.
"I have found out, Sir Thomas," she said, "that Mr. Gideon Morse hascanceled all social engagements whatever for himself and his daughter.Miss Dewsbury tells me that it's not necessary now to say what thesewere. I will, however, tell you that they extended until the New Yearand were of the utmost social importance."
"Canceled, Miss Easey?"
"Definitely and finally _canceled_, both by letter to the various hostsand hostesses concerned, and by an intimation which is already sent toall the London dailies, for publication to-morrow. The notice came upto my room this morning from our own advertising office, for inclusionin 'Society Notes'--as you know such intimations are printed as news andpaid for at a guinea a line."
"Any reason given, Miss Easey?"
"None whatever in the notices, which are brief almost to curtness.However, I have been able to see one of the private letters which hasbeen received by my friends, Lord and Lady William Gatehouse, of Banks.It is courteously worded, and explains that Mr. and Miss Morse aredefinitely retiring from social life. It's signed by his secretary."
The invaluable Julia nodded to Miss Easey. She pursed up her prim oldmouth, wished me good-morning and rustled away.
"That's _that_!" said Julia, "now about the towers."
"Yes, about the towers," I said, and my voice was very hoarse.
"As my poor friend, Mr. Rolston, discovered," she said bravely, "thesemonstrous blots upon London are certainly not for the purposes ofwireless telegraphy. There are half the journalists in London atRichmond at the present moment, including two of our own reporters, andit is said that on the immense platforms between the towers, a series ofextraordinary and luxurious buildings has been erected. It is widelybelieved that Gideon Morse is out of his mind, and has retired to a sortof unassailable, luxurious hermitage in the sky."
There was a knock at the door and a sub-editor came in with a longwhite strip just torn from the tape machine. I took it and read that the"Central News Agencies" announces "crowds at base of towers surroundedby a thirty-foot wall. Callers at principal gate are politely receivedby Boss Mulligan, formerly well-known boxer, United States, now in theservice of Gideon M. Morse. Inquirers told that no statement can beissued for publication. Later. Rumor in neighborhood says that towersare entirely staffed by special Chinese servants, large company of whicharrived at Liverpool on Thursday last. Growing certainty that towers areprivate enterprise of one man, Morse, the Brazilian multi-millionaire."
A telephone bell on my table rang. I took it up.
"Is that Sir Thomas? Charles Danvers speaking"--it was the voice of ourdapper young Parliamentary correspondent, the nephew of a prominentunder-secretary, and as smart as they make them.
"Yes, where are you?"
"House of Commons. Mr. Bloxhame, Member for Budmouth, is asking aquestion in the House this afternoon about the Richmond Tower sensation.The Secretary to the Board of Trade will reply. There's great interestin the lobby. Special edition clearly indicated. Question will come onabout four."
I sent every one away and thought for a quarter of an hour. Of courseall this absolved me of my promise to Morse. He had played with me,fooled me absolutely and I had been like a babe in his astute hands.Well, there was no time to think of my own private grievances. Myimmediate duty was to make as good a show that afternoon and the nextday as any other paper. My hope was to beat all my rivals out of thefield.
After all, there were nothing but rumors and surmise up to the present.The news situation might change in a couple of hours, but at the presentmoment I felt certain that I knew more about the affair than any otherman in Fleet Street. I set my teeth and resolved to let old Morse haveit in the neck.
Within an hour or so we had an "Extra Edition" on the streets, andduring that hour I drew on my own private knowledge and dictated to MissDewsbury, and a couple of other stenographers. Poppy Boynton'sexperience was a godsend. I remembered her own vivid words of the nightbefore, and I printed them in the form of an interview which must havesatisfied even that delightful girl's hunger for advertisement.Incidentally, I sent a man from the Corps of Commissionaires down toCerne in a fast motor-car, with notes for two hundred and fifty in anenvelope, and instructions to stop in Regent Street on his way and buythe finest box of chocolates that London could produce--I remember thebill came in a few days afterwards, and if you'll believe me, it was forseventeen pounds ten!
At four o'clock, while the question was being asked in the House ofCommons, and all the other evening papers were waiting the result fortheir special editions, my "Extra Special" was rushing all overLondon--the "Extra Special" containing the "First Authentic Descriptionof the City in the Clouds."
"You really are wonderful, Sir Thomas," said Miss Dewsbury, removing hertortoise-shell spectacles and touching her eyes with a somewhat dingyhandkerchief, "but where, oh, where is William Rolston?"
"My dear girl," I replied, "from what I've seen of William Rolston, I'mquite certain that he's alive and kicking. Not only that, but we shallhear from him again very shortly."
"You really think so, Sir Thomas?"--the eyes, hitherto concealed by thespectacles, were really rather fascinating eyes after all.
"I don't _think_ so, I know it. Look here, Miss Dewsbury"--for somereason I couldn't resist the temptation of a confidence--"this thing,this stunt hits me privately a great deal harder than you can have anyidea of. You said that the shadow of the towers was across my path, andyou were more right than you knew. Enough said. I think we've whackedFleet Street this afternoon. Well and good. There's a lot behind thismomentary sensation, which I shall never leave go of until it'sstraightened out. This is between you and me, not for officeconsumption, but," I put my hand upon her thin arm, "if I can help inany way, you shall have your Bill Rolston."
She turned her head away and walked to the window. Then she said anastonishing thing.
"If only I could help you to your Juanita!"
"WHAT!" I shouted, "what on earth--"
A page came in with a telegram.
"Addressed to you, Sir Thomas," he said, "marked personal."
I tore it open, it was from Pat Moore.
"Extraordinary youth followed us out shooting, and came up at lunch asking for you. Boy of about sixteen. Mysterious cove with the assurance of Mephistopheles. Some question of fifty pounds was to get from you on delivering letter. Gave him your address and he departed for London."
I couldn't make head or tail of Pat's wire, and I put it down on thetable for future consideration, when Williams hurried in with a pad ofpaper.
"Danvers just 'phoned through," he said, "and I've sent the messagedownstairs for the stop press."
I began to read.
"Bloxhame interrogated Secretary to the Board of Trade, who replied itwas perfectly true that the towers were built to the order of GideonMorse and were his property. Morse has entered into an agreement withthe Government engaging not to use the towers for wireless telegraphy orfor any other purpose than a strictly private one, which appears to bethat he intends to live on the platforms on the top. At his death thewhole property will pass into possession of the Government, to be usedfor wireless purposes, or for the principal aeroplane station betweenEngland and the Continent. Aeroplanes, when the existing buildings areremoved, will be able to alight from the platforms in numbers.Expenditure from first to last, Board of Trade estimates at sevenmillions. Feeling of House at such a magnificent gift to the Nation,which is bound to fall in within twenty years or so, friendly andsatisfactory. In answer to a question from Commander Crosman, M.P. forRodwell, President Board of Aerial Control announces that strict ordershave been issued that aeroplanes are not to circle round the towers orin any way annoy present proprietor. The House is greatly amused andinterested at this romantic news."
Williams departed to issue another "Extra Special," and I was once moreleft alone. Obviously the secret was out, it was startling enough in allconscience, and, as I thought, merely the whim of a madman. And yetthere were aspects of it which were inexplicable. There could be nodoubt whatever that Gideon Morse had flouted English society, which hadtreated him with extreme kindness, in a way that it would never forget.That surely was not the action of a sane man. If he had wanted to buildfor himself a lordly "pleasure house" to which he might retire uponoccasions, a sane man would have arranged things very differently.Certainly, and this was not without some bitter satisfaction to me, hehad ruined his daughter's chances of a brilliant marriage--for a longtime at any rate. I saw that secrecy had been necessary, though it hadbeen carried to an extreme degree; but why had he fooled me under theguise of friendship? Surely he could have trusted my word.
I was furious as I thought of the way I had been done. I was furiousalso, and worse than furious, alarmed, when I thought of Juanita. Hadshe been in the plot the whole time? Did she like being spirited awayfrom all that could make a young girl's life bright and happy? What_was_ at the bottom of it all?
The only thing to do was to try and keep ahead, or level, with my rivalcontemporaries in the matter of news, and privately to wait on events,and think the matter out definitely. For the next few days, weeksperhaps, some of the acutest brains in England would be puzzled overthis problem, and if there was really anything more in it than the freakof a colossal egotist, who thus, with a superb gesture, signified hisscorn of the world, then some light might come.
Suddenly I felt ill, and collapsed. I gave a few instructions, left theoffice and went home to Piccadilly, and to bed.
It was about eight o'clock when Preston woke me. I had had a bath andchanged, and was wondering exactly what I should do for the rest of theevening, when Preston came in and said that there was a boy who wishedto see me. He would neither give his name nor his business, but seemedrespectable.
I remembered Pat's mysterious telegram, which till now I had quiteforgotten, and with a certain quickening of the pulses I ordered the boyto be shown up.
He came into the room with a scrape and a bow, a nice-looking lad ofsixteen, decently dressed in black.
"Who are you and what do you want?" I said.
He seemed a little nervous and his eyes were bright.
"Are you Sir Thomas Kirby?"
"Yes, what is it? By the way, haven't you been all the way to Norfolk tofind me?"
"Yes, sir, it's my day off, but unfortunately I found you had left, sir,so I came on here as fast as I could. A gentleman at Cerne Hall gave meyour address."
"And how did you know I was at Cerne Hall?"
"It's on the envelope, sir."
"The envelope?"
"Yes, sir, the one I was to deliver to you personally, and on no accountto let it get into the hands of any one else, even one of your servants,sir, and"--he breathed a little fast--"and the lady said that you wouldcertainly give me fifty pounds, sir, if I did exactly as she ordered,and never breathed a word to a single soul."
In an instant I understood. The blood grew hot and raced into my veinsas I held out my hand, trembling with impatience, while the youthperformed a somewhat complicated operation of half undressing,eventually producing a brown paper packet intricately tied with string,from some inner recesses of his wardrobe.
"Who are you?" I asked while he was unbuttoning.
"James Smith, sir, one of the pages at the Ritz Hotel."
I tore off the wrappers imposed upon the letter by this cautious youth.There was a letter addressed to me in a fine Italian hand which I knewfrom having seen it in one word only--"Cerne."
Fortunately, I had plenty of money in the flat and there was no need togive the excellent James Smith a check.
He gasped with joy as he tucked away the crackling bits of paper.
"And remember, not ever a word to any one, Smith."
"On my honor, sir," he said, saluting.
"And what will you do with it, Smith?"
"Please, sir, I hope to pelmanize myself into an hotel manager," hesaid, and I let him go at that. I only hope that he will succeed.
I opened the letter. It ran as follows:
"Farewell. I don't suppose we shall ever meet again. I am forced to retire from the world--from love--from you.
"I cannot explain, but fear walks with me night and day. Oh, my love! if you could only save me, you would, I know, but it is impossible and so farewell. Were I not sure that we shall not see each other more I could not write as I have done and signed myself here,
"Your "JUANITA."
I put the letter carefully into the breast-pocket of my coat, and then,for the first time in my life, I fainted dead away.
Preston found me a few minutes later, got me right somehow, ascertainedthat I had not eaten for many hours, scolded me like a father, andpoured turtle soup into me till I was alive again, alive and changedfrom the man I had been a few hours ago.
* * * * *
The next day I satisfied myself that all was going well in the office,and simply roamed about London. Already I think the dim purpose whichafterwards came to such extraordinary fruit was being born in my mind. Iwanted to be alone, taken quite out of my usual surroundings, and Iachieved this with considerable success. I rode in tube trains and heardevery one discussing Gideon Morse, and what was already known as the"City in the Clouds." The papers announced that thousands of people wereencamped in Richmond Park gazing upwards, and seeing nothing because ofa cloud veil that hung around the top of the towers. It seemed theproprietors of telescopes on tripods were doing a roaring trade atthreepence a look, but the gate in the grim, prison-like wallssurrounding the grounds at the foot of the tower, was never once openedall day long.
I began to realize that probably nothing new, nothing reliable that is,would transpire at present. The sensation would go its usual way. Therewould be songs and allusions in all the revues to-night. Punch wouldhave a cartoon, suggesting the City in the Clouds as a place ofbanishment for it
s particular bugbear of the moment. Gossip papers wouldbe full of beautiful, untrue stories of a romantic nature about the girlI loved, her name would be the subject of a million jokes by a millionvulgar people. Then, little by little, the excitement would die away.
All this, as a trained journalist I foresaw easily enough, but knowingwhat I knew--what probably I alone of all the teeming millions in Londonknew--I was forming a resolve, which hourly grew stronger, that I wouldnever rest until I knew the worst.
I found myself in Kensington. There was a motor-omnibus starting forWhitechapel Road. I climbed on the top.
"I sye," piped a little ragamuffin office boy to his friend, "why doesJewanniter live in the clouds, Willum?"
"Arsk me another."
"'Cos she's a celebrated 'airess--see?"
"What I say," said a meager-looking man with a bristling mustache whichunsuccessfully concealed his slack and feeble mouth, "is simply this. IfMr. Morse chooses to live in a certain way of life and 'as the money tocarry it out, why not let him alone? Freedom for every individual is a'progative of English life, and I expect Morse is fair furious with whatthey're saying about him, for I have it on the best authority that acopy of every edition of the _Evening Special_ goes up to him in thetower lifts as soon as it is issued."
Words, words, words! everywhere, silly, irresponsible chatter which Iheeded as little as a thrush heeds a shower of rain.
Steadily, swiftly, certainly, my purpose grew.
I got down in the Whitechapel Road, that wide and unlovely thoroughfare,and, feeling hungry, went into a dingy little restaurant partitioned offin boxes. The tablecloth was of stained oil skin, the guests theseediest type of minor clerks, but I do remember that for ninepence Ihad a little beefsteak and kidney pudding to myself which was as good asanything I have ever eaten. As I went out I saw my neighbor of theomnibus who had spoken so eloquently of freedom, walking by with alittle black bag, as in an aimless way I hailed a taxicab from the rankopposite a London hospital and told the man to drive slowly westwards.
He did so, and when we came to the Embankment a gleam of afternoonsunshine began to enlighten what had been a leaden day. Thinking a briskwalk from Black Friars to Westminster would help my thoughts, Idismissed the cab and started.
It was with an odd little thrill and flutter of the heart that far awaywestwards, to the left of the Houses of Parliament, I saw three ghostlylines, no thicker than lamp posts, it seemed, springing upwards fromnothingness. At Cleopatra's Needle, I felt the want of a cigarette andstopped to light one.
At the moment there were few people on the pavement, though theunceasing traffic in the road roared by as usual. I lit the cigarette,put my case back in my pocket, and was about to continue my stroll whenI heard some one padding up behind me with obvious purpose.
I half turned, and there again I saw the man with the weak mouth and thebig mustache.
It flashed upon me, for the first time, that I was being followed, hadbeen followed probably during the whole of my wanderings.
As I said, there was nobody immediately about, so I turned torabbit-face and challenged him.
"You're following me, my man, why? Out with it or I'll give you incharge."
"Yer can't," he said. "This is a free country, freedom is my 'progativeas well as yerself, Sir Thomas Kirby. I've done nothing to annoy yer,have I?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"But you have been following me."
His manner changed at once.
"Ever since you left Piccadilly, Sir Thomas, waiting my opportunity. I'ma private inquiry agent by profession, though this job of shadowing youhas nothing to do with the office that employs me. I have a young friendin my house who's turned up sudden and mysterious, a young friend I lostsight of many weeks ago. He says you'll come to him at once if I couldonly get you alone and be certain that no one saw me speak to you. Hisinstructions were to follow you about until such an opportunity as thisarose, and all the time I was to be certain that no one else wasfollowing you. I have ascertained that all right."
He put his head close to mine and I felt his hot breath upon my cheek.
"It's Mr. William Rolston, Sir Thomas," he said. "I'm not in hisconfidence, though I have long admired his abilities and predicted agreat future for him. He's come to me in distress and I am doing what Ican to 'elp 'im--this being a day when they've no job for me at theoffice."
"Good Lord! why didn't you speak to me this morning, if you've beenfollowing me all day?"
He shook his head.
"Wouldn't have done. Mr. Rolston's instructions was different and he hashis reasons, though I'm not in his confidence. I've done it out ofadmiration for his talents, and no doubt some day he'll be in a positionto pay me for my work."
"Pay you, you idiot!" I could have taken him by the throat and shakenthe fool. "Mr. Rolston knows very well that he can command any money hechooses. He's a member of my staff."
We were now walking along together towards Westminster.
"That's as may be," said my seedy friend, "but 'e 'adn't a brassfarthing this morning, and come to that, Sir Thomas, if you'd got intoanother blinking taxi, you'd have snookered _me_!"
"Where do you live?" I asked impatiently.
"Not far from where you 'ad your lunch, Sir Thomas. 15, ImperialMansions, Royal Road, Stepney."
"It's a magnificent address," I said, as I held out my stick for a cab.
"It's a block o' workmen's buildings, reely," he replied gloomily, "andin the thick of the Chinese quarter, which makes it none too savory. Butan Englishman's house is his castle and he has the 'progative to call itwhat he likes."
Back east we went again and in half an hour I was mounting interminablestone steps to a door nearly at the top of "Imperial Mansions," which myguide, who during our drive had introduced himself to me as Mr. HerbertSliddim, announced as his home. In a dingily furnished room, sitting ona molting, plush sofa I saw the curious little man to whom I had sotaken months ago. He was shabby almost to beggary. His face was pale andworn, which gave him an aspect of being much older than I had imaginedhim. But his irrepressible ears stood out as of yore and his eyes werenot dimmed.
"Hallo," I said, "glad to see you, Mr. Rolston, though you've neglectedus at the office for a long time. Your arrears of salary have beenmounting up."
His hand was trembling as I gripped it.
"Oh, Sir Thomas," he said, "do you really mean that I am still on thestaff?"
"Of course you are, my dear boy."
I turned to Mr. Sliddim.
"Now I wonder," I said, "if I might have a little quiet conversationwith Mr. Rolston."
"By all means," he replied. "I'll wait in the courtyard."
"I shouldn't do that, Mr. Sliddim. Why not take a tour round?"
I led him out of the room into the passage which served for hall,pressed a couple of pounds into his hand and had the satisfaction ofseeing him leap away down the stairs like an antelope.
"That's all right," said Rolston. "Now he'll go and get blotto, it's thepoor devil's failing. Still, he'll be happy."
I sat down, passed my cigarette case to Rolston, and waited for him tobegin.
He sort of came to attention.
"I was rung up, Sir Thomas, at your flat--at least your valet was--andtold to come to the office of the _Evening Special_ at once."
"I know, go on."
"I dressed as quickly as I could, ran down the stairs and jumped intothe waiting cab. The door banged and we started off. The engines musthave been running, for we went away like a flash. There was some oneelse sitting there. A hand clapped over my mouth and an arm round mybody. I couldn't move or speak. Then the thumb of the hand did somethingto the big nerves behind my ear. It's an Oriental trick and I had justrealized it when something wet and sweet was pressed over my mouth andnose, and I lost all consciousness.
"When I woke up I found myself in a fair-sized room, lit by a skylighthigh up in the roof. There was a bed, a table, a chair, and variousother conveniences, and
I hadn't the slightest idea where I could be. Myhead ached and I felt bruised all over, so I drank a glass of water,crawled back into the bed and slept. When I woke again there was anaffable Chink sitting by my side, who spoke quite good English.
"'You will,' he said, 'be kept here for some time in durance, yess. It'san unfortunate necessity, yess.'
"I heard on all sides familiar noises. I knew in a moment what hadhappened. I had been brought back to the works at the base of the threetowers."
"All this fits in very well with what I now know, Rolston. I'll tell youeverything in a minute, but I want to hear your story first."
"Very good, Sir Thomas. For over three months I've been kept a prisonerat Richmond. I wasn't badly treated. I had anything I liked to eat anddrink, any books to read--tobacco, a bath--everything but newspapers,which were rigidly denied me. I wasn't kept entirely to my prison room.I was allowed to go out and take exercise within the domain surroundedby the great thirty-foot wall, though I was never let to roam about as Iwished. There was always a big Chinese coolie with a leaded caneattending me, a man that only spoke a few words of English.
"Now, Sir Thomas, please remember this. From first to last none of myjailers knew that I understood Chinese. And none of them knew orsuspected that I had been among the workmen before, in order to getmaterials for the scoop with which I came to you."
I saw the value of that at once.
"Good for you, Rolston; now please continue."
"Well, Sir Thomas, I kept my eyes and ears very wide open and I learnt alot. Things were being prepared with a feverish activity of which thepeople outside had not the slightest idea. I found that round the baseof the towers, in the miniature park inclosed by the high wall, therewere already magnificent vegetable gardens in active being. There werehuge conservatories which must have been set up when the towers wereonly a few hundred feet high, now full of the rarest flowers and shrubs.In my walks, I saw a miniature poultry farm, conducted on the mostup-to-date methods; there was a dairy, with four or five cows--alreadythis part of the huge inclosure was assuming a rural aspect. It musthave been planned and started nearly two years ago."
"You asked questions, I suppose?"
"Any amount, as innocently as I possibly could. I got very little out ofmy captors in reply. Your Chinaman is the most secretive person in theworld. _But_, I heard them talking among themselves; and I was amazed atthe calculated organization which had been going on without cessationfrom the beginning.
"It all fitted in exactly with what I told you at the _Special_ office.It was as though Mr. Morse was planning a little private world of hisown, which would be independent of everything outside."
"And about the towers themselves?"
"It will take me hours to tell you. In one quarter of the inclosurethere are great dynamo sheds--an electric installation inferior tonothing else of its kind in the world. The great lifts which rise andfall in the towers are electric. Heating, lighting, artificial daylightfor the conservatories--all are electric.
"Where I was kept," he went on, "was nearly a quarter of a mile from theengineering section, but I knew that it hummed with extraordinaryactivity night and day. I discovered that structural buildings of lightsteel were pouring in from America, that an army of decorators andpainters was at work; vans of priceless Oriental furniture and hangingswere arriving from all parts of the world, rare flowers and shrubs also.Sir Thomas, it was as though the Universe was being searched forwonders--all to be concentrated here.
"This went on and on till I lost count of the days and lived in a sortof dream, kindly treated enough, allowed to see many secret things, andalways with a sense that because this was so, I should never againemerge into the real world."
"I can understand that, Rolston. Every word you say interests meextremely."
"I'll come to the present, Sir Thomas. You can ask me any details thatyou like afterwards. A few days ago everything was speeded up toextraordinary pitch. Then, late one night, there was a great to-do, andin the morning I learned that Mr. Morse and his family had arrived, andthat they were up at the top. I have found out since that this was thefourteenth of September."
"The fourteenth!" I cried.
"Yes, Sir Thomas, the fourteenth. The next day, it was late in theafternoon and the sun was setting, two Chinamen came into my room, tieda handkerchief over my eyes and led me out. I was put into one of thelittle electric railways--open cars which run all over theinclosure--and taken to the base of the towers.
"I don't know which tower it was, but I was led into a lift and a long,slow ascent began. I knew that I was in one of the big carrying liftsthat take a long time to do the third of a mile up to the City, not oneof the quick-running elevators which leap upwards from stage to stagefor passengers and arrive at the top in a comparatively short space oftime.
"When the lift stopped they took off the handkerchief and I found myselfin a great whitewashed barn of a place which was obviously a storeroom.There were bales of stuff, huge boxes and barrels on every side.
"The men who had brought me up were just rough Chinese workmen from HongKong, but a door opened and a Chink of quite another sort came in andtook me by the arm.
"You see, Sir Thomas," he explained, "to the ordinary Englishman oneChinaman is just like another, but my experience in the East enables meto distinguish at once.
"The newcomer was of a very superior class, and he led me out of thestoreroom, across a swaying bridge of latticed steel to a littlerotunda. As we passed along, I had a glimpse of the whole of London,far, far below. The Thames was like a piece of glittering string.Everything else were simply patches of gray, green, and brown.
"We went into the cupola and a tiny lift shot us up like a bullet untilit stopped with a clank and I knew that I was now upon the highestplatform of all.
"But I could see nothing, for we simply turned down a long corridorlighted by electricity and softly carpeted, which might have been thecorridor of one of the great hotels far down below in town.
"My conductor, who wore pince-nez and a suit of dark blue alpaca and whohad a charming smile, stopped at a door, rapped, and pushed me in.
"I found myself in a room of considerable size. It was a library. Thewalls were covered with shelves of old oak, in which there wereinnumerable books. A Turkey carpet, two or three writing-tables--and Mr.Gideon Morse, whom I had never spoken to, but had seen driving in HydePark, sat there smoking a cigar.
"I might have been in the library of a country house, except for twothings. There were no windows to this large and gracious room. It waslit from above, like a billiard-room--domed skylights in the roof. Butthe light that came down was not a light like anything I had ever seen.It lit up every detail of the magnificent and stately place, but it wasnew--'the light that never was on earth or sea.' It was just that thatmade me realize where I was--two thousand three hundred feet up in theair, alone with Gideon Morse, who had snatched me out of life threemonths before."
"I know Mr. Morse, Rolston. What impression did he make on you?"
"For a moment he stunned me, Sir Thomas. I knew I was in the presence ofa superman. All that I had heard about him, all the legends thatsurrounded his name, the fact of this stupendous sky city in which Iwas--the ease with which he had stretched out his hand and made me aprisoner, all combined to produce awe and fear."
"Yes, go on."
"I saw two other things--I think I did. One was that the man's sanity istrembling in the balance. The other that if ever a human being lives andmoves and has his being in deadly temporal fear, Gideon Mendoza Morse isthat man."
The words rang out in that East-end room with prophetic force. It was asthough a brilliant light was snapped on to illumine a dark chamber in mysoul.
"What did he say to you, Rolston?"
"He was suavity and kindness itself. He said that he immensely regrettedthe necessity for secluding me so long. 'But of course I shall make itup to you. You're a young man, Mr. Rolston, only just commencing yourcareer. A little capital wo
uld doubtless assist that career, in which Imay say I have every belief. Shall we say that you leave Richmond thisafternoon with a solatium of five hundred pounds?'
"'A thousand would suit me better,' I said.
"He shrugged his shoulders, and suddenly smiled at me.
"'Very well,' he said, 'let it be a thousand pounds.'
"'Of course without prejudice, Mr. Morse.'
"'Please explain yourself.'
"'You've kidnaped me. You've also committed an offense against the lawof England--a criminal offense for which you will have to suffer.Perhaps you don't realize that if you built your house miles further up,if you managed to nearly reach the moon, British justice would reach youat last.'
"He shook his head sadly.
"'To that point of view, I hardly agree, Mr. Rolston. I am quite unableto purchase British justice, but I can put such obstacles in its waythat could--'
"He suddenly stopped there, lit a little brown cigarette, came up andpatted me on the shoulder.
"'Child,' he said, 'you are clever, you are original, I like you. Buthave a sense of proportion, and remember that you have no choice in thismatter. I will give you the money you want on condition that you go awayand bring no action whatever against me. If not--'
"'If not, sir?'
"'Well, you will have to stay here, that's all. You won't be badlytreated. You can be librarian if you like, but you will never see theoutside world again.'
"'May I have a few hours to consider, sir?'
"'A month if you like,' he said, pressing a bell upon his table.
"The same bland young Chinaman led me out of the library and down to thestoreroom in the lift. I was blindfolded, and descended to the ground.
"There I met a man whom I had seen two or three times during the lastthree days, a great seven-foot American with arms like a gorilla, athing called 'Boss Mulligan,' whom I had gathered from the conversationof my Chinese friends, had now arrived to take charge of the wholecity--a sort of head policeman and guard.
"'Sonny,' he said, 'I've had a 'phone down from the top in regard toyou. Now don't you be a short sport. You've been made a good offer. Yougrip it and be like fat in lavender. My advice to you is to wind a smileround your neck and depart with the dollars. I can see you're full ofpep and now you've got fortune before you. See that pavilion overthere?'
"He pointed to where a little gaudily painted house nestled under one ofthe great feet of the first tower.
"'That's my mansion. You wander about for an hour or so and come thereand say you agree to the boss's terms--we'll take your word for it. Uponthe word "Yes," I'll hand you out at the gate and you can go to Parisfor a trip.'
"'I'll think it over,' I said.
"'Do so, and don't be a life-everlasting, twenty-four-hours-a-day,dyed-in-the-wool damn fool.'
"It was getting dusk. I was in a new part of the inclosed park. He letme go without any watchful Chinese attendant at my heels, and I strolledoff with my head bent down as if deep in thought.
"I'd got an hour, and I think I made the best use of it. I hurried alongunder the shadow of the towers, past shrubberies, artificial lakes,summer-houses and little inclosed rose-gardens until I was far away fromMr. Mulligan. Here and there I passed a patient Chinese gardener or somehurrying member of Morse's little army. But nobody stopped me orinterfered with me. For the first time since my captivity I wasperfectly free.
"To cut a long story short, Sir Thomas, I came to a rectangle in thegreat encircling wall, which at that point was thirty feet high. Theparapet at the top was obviously being repaired, for there was a ladderright up, pails of mortar, bricklayers' tools, and a coil of rope forbinding scaffolding. I nipped up the ladder, carrying the rope after me,fixed it at the top, slid down easily enough, and in a quarter of anhour was in Richmond station. I didn't dare to go back to my old roomsbecause I was sure there would be a secret hue and cry after me. Ithought of my old friend, Mr. Sliddim, traveled to Whitechapel with mylast pence, and here I am."
"Still a member of my staff?"
"If you please, Sir Thomas."
"Ready for anything?"
"Anything and everything."
"Then come with me to Piccadilly--if they look for you there again weshall be prepared."
