CHAPTER XXIV
"WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK"
On their left were several white villas, before which pink and scarletgeraniums ran riot, with spreading mimosas golden with their featheryblossom, for Ospedaletti makes a frantic, if vain, bid for popularity asa winter-resort. Its deadly dullness, however, is too well known to thehabitue of the Riviera; and its casino, which never obtained a licence,imparts to it the air of painful effort at gaiety.
"Well," remarked the shabby man as they passed along and out upon thesea-road in the direction of Bordighera, "I always looked upon what thepeople at Auchterarder said regarding the Whispers as a mere myth. Butnow, having heard them with my own ears, how can I have further doubt?"
"I've listened in the Castle ruins a good many times, my dear Krail,"replied the other, "but I've never heard anything more exciting than anowl. Indeed, Lady Heyburn and I, when there was so much gossip about thestrange noises some two years ago, set to work to investigate. We wentthere at least a dozen times, but without result; only both of us caughtbad colds."
"Well," exclaimed Krail, "I used to ridicule the weird stories I heardin the village about the Devil's Whisper, and all that. But by merechance I happened to be at the spot one bright night, and I hearddistinct whisperings, just as had been described to me. They gave me avery creepy feeling, I can assure you."
"Bosh! Now, do you believe in ghosts, you man-of-the-world that you are,my dear Felix?"
"No. Most decidedly I don't."
"Then what you've heard is only in imagination, depend upon it. Thesupernatural doesn't exist in Glencardine, that's quite certain,"declared Flockart. "The fact is that there's so much tradition andlegendary lore connected with the old place, and its early owners weresuch a set of bold and defiant robbers, that for generations thepeasantry have held it in awe. Hence all sorts of weird and terriblestories have been invented and handed down, until the present agebelieves them to be based upon fact."
"But, my dear friend, I actually heard the Whispers--heard them with myown ears," Krail asserted. "I happened to be about the place that night,trying to get a peep into the library, where Goslin and the old manwere, I believe, busy at work. But the blinds fitted too closely, sothat I couldn't see inside. The keeper and his men were, I knew, down inthe village; therefore I took a stroll towards the ruins, and, as it wasa beautiful night, I sat down in the courtyard to have a smoke. Then, ofa sudden, I heard low voices quite distinctly. They startled me, for notuntil they fell upon my ears did I recall the stories told to me weeksbefore."
"If Stewart or any of the under-keepers had found you prowling about theCastle grounds at that hour they might have asked you awkwardquestions," remarked Flockart.
"Oh," laughed the other, "they all know me as a visitor to the villagefond of walking exercise. I took very good care that they should allknow me, so that as few explanations as possible would be necessary. Asyou well know, the secret of all my successes is that I never leaveanything to chance."
"To go peeping about outside the house and trying to took in at lightedwindows sounds a rather injudicious proceeding," his companion declared.
"Not if proper precautions are taken, as I took them. I was weeks inthat terribly dull Scotch village, but nobody suspected my real mission.I made quite a large circle of friends at the 'Star,' who all believedme to be a foreign ornithologist writing a book upon the birds ofScotland. Trust me to tell people a good story."
"Well," exclaimed Flockart, after a long silence, "those Whispers arecertainly a mystery, more especially if you've actually heard them. Ontwo or three occasions I've spoken to Sir Henry about them. He ridiculesthe idea, yet he admitted to me one evening that the voices had reallybeen heard. I declared that the most remarkable fact was the suddendeath of each person who had listened and heard them. It is a curiousphenomenon, which certainly should be investigated."
"The inference is that I, having listened to the ghostly voices, amdoomed to a sudden and violent end," remarked the shabby stranger quitegloomily.
Flockart laughed. "Really, Felix, this is too funny!" he said. "Fancyyour taking notice of such old wives' fables! Why, my dear fellow,you've got many years of constant activity before you yet. You mustreturn to Paris in the morning, and watch in patience."
"I have watched, but discovered nothing."
"Perhaps I'll come and assist you; most probably I shall."
"No, don't! As soon as you leave San Remo Sir Henry will know, and hemight suspect."
"Suspect what?"
"That you are in search of the truth, and of fortune in consequence."
"He believes in me. Only the other day I had a letter from him writtenin Goslin's hand, repeating the confidence he reposes in me."
"Exactly. You must remain down here for the present."
Flockart recollected the puzzling decision of Lady Heyburn, and remainedsilent.
"Our chief peril is still the one which has faced us all along," went onthe man in the grey hat--"the peril that the girl may tell about thatawkward affair at Chantilly."
"She dare not," Flockart assured him quickly.
Krail shook his head dubiously. "She's leading a lonely life. Her heartis broken, and she believes herself, as every other young girl does, tobe without a future. Therefore, she's brooding over it. One never knowsin such cases when a girl may fling all prudence to the winds," he said."If she did, then nothing could save us."
"That's just what her ladyship said the other day," answered Flockart,tossing away his cigarette. "But you don't know that I hold herirrevocably. She dare not say a single word. If she dare, why did shenot tell the truth about the safe?"
"Probably because it was all too sudden. She now finds life in thatdismal little village intolerable. She's a girl of spirit, you know, andhas always been used to luxury and freedom. To live with an old woman ina country cottage away from all her friends must be maddening. No, mydear James, in this you've acted most injudiciously. You were devoid ofyour usual foresight. Depend upon it, a very serious danger threatens.She will speak."
"I tell you she dare not. Rest your mind assured."
"She will."
"_She shall not!_"
"How, pray, can you close her mouth?" asked the foreigner.
Flockart's eyes met his. In them was a curious expression, almost aglitter.
Krail understood. He shrugged his shoulders, but uttered no word. Hisgesture was, however, that of one unconvinced. Adventurer as he was,ingenious and unscrupulous, he lived from hand to mouth. Sometimes hemade a big _coup_ and placed himself in funds. But following such anevent he was open-handed and generous to his friends, extravagant in hisexpenditure; and very soon found himself under the necessity to exercisehis wits in order to obtain the next louis. He had known Flockart foryears as one of his own class. They had first met long ago on board aCastle liner homeward bound from Capetown, where both found themselvesplaying a crooked game. A friendship begotten of dishonesty had sprungup between them, and in consequence they had thrown in their lottogether more than once with considerable financial advantage.
The present affair was, however, not much to Krail's liking, and this hehad more than once told his friend. It was quite possible that if theycould discover the mysterious source of this blind man's wealth theymight, by judiciously levying blackmail through a third party, secure avery handsome income which he was to share with Flockart and herladyship.
The last-named Krail had always admitted to be one of the cleverestwomen he had ever met. His only surprise had been that she, as SirHenry's wife, was unable to get at the facts which were so cleverlywithheld. It only showed, however, that the Baronet, though deprived ofeyesight, was even more clever than the unscrupulous woman he had sofoolishly married.
Krail held Lady Heyburn in distinct distrust. He had once had dealingswith her which had turned out the reverse of satisfactory. Instinctivelyhe knew that, in order to save herself, if exposure ever came, she would"give him away" without the least compunction.
&
nbsp; What had puzzled him for several years, and what, indeed, had puzzledother people, was the reason of the close friendship between Flockartand the Baronet's wife. It was certainly not affection. He knew Flockartintimately, and had knowledge of his private affairs; therefore he waswell aware of the existence of an unknown and rather insignificant womanto whom he was in secret devoted.
No; the bond between the pair was an entirely mysterious one. He knewthat on more than one occasion, when Flockart's demands for money hadbeen a little too frequent, she had resisted and attempted to withdrawfrom further association with him. Yet by a single word, or even a look,he could compel her to disgorge the funds he needed, for she had evenhanded him some of her trinkets to pawn until she could obtain furtherfunds from Sir Henry to redeem them.
As they walked together along the white Corniche Road, their faces settowards the gorgeous southern afterglow, while the waves lapped lazilyon the grey rocks, all these puzzling thoughts recurred to Krail.
"Lady Heyburn seems still to remain your very devoted friend," heremarked at last with a meaning smile. "I see from the _New York Herald_what pleasant parties she gives, and how she is the heart and soul ofsocial merriment in San Remo. By Jove, James! you're a lucky man topossess such a popular hostess as friend."
"Yes," laughed Flockart, "Winnie is a regular pal. Without her I shouldhave been broken long ago. But she's always ready to help me along."
"People have already remarked upon your remarkable friendship," said hisfriend, "and many ill-natured allegations have been made."
"Oh, yes, I'm quite well aware of that, my dear fellow. It has pained memore than enough. You yourself know that, as far as affection goes, I'venever in my life entertained a spark of it for Winnie. We were childrentogether, and have been friends always."
"Quite so!" exclaimed Krail, smiling. "That's a pretty good story totell the world. But there's a point where mere friendship must break,you know."
"What do you mean?" asked the other, glancing at him in surprise.
"Well, the story you tell other people may be picturesque and romantic,but with me it's just a trifle weak. Lady Heyburn doesn't give herpearls to be pawned, out of mere friendship, you know."
Flockart was silent. He knew too well that the man walking at his sidewas as clever an intriguer and as bold an adventurer as had ever movedup and down Europe "working the game" in search of pigeons to pluck. Hisshabbiness was assumed. He had alighted at Bordighera station from the_rapide_ from Paris, spent the night at a third-rate hotel in order notto be recognised at the Angst or any of the smarter houses, and had methim by appointment to explain the present situation. His remarks,however, were the reverse of reassuring. What did he suspect?
"I don't quite follow you, Krail," Flockart said.
"I meant to imply that if friendship only links you with Lady Heyburn,the chain may quite easily snap," he remarked.
He looked at his friend, much puzzled. He could see no point in thatobservation.
Krail read what was passing in the other's mind, and added, "I know,_mon cher ami_, that affection from her ladyship is entirely out of thequestion. The gossips are liars. And----"
"Sir Henry himself is quite aware of that. I have already spoken quiteplainly and openly to him, and suggested my departure from Glencardineon account of ill-natured remarks by her ladyship's enemies. But hewould not hear of my leaving, and pressed me to remain."
Krail looked at him in blank surprise. "Well," he said, "if you've beenbold enough to do this in face of the gossip, then you're a muchcleverer man than ever I took you to be."
For answer, Flockart took some letters from his breast-pocket, selectedone written in a foreign hand, and gave it to Krail to read. It was fromthe hermit of Glencardine, written at his dictation by Monsieur Goslin,and was couched in the warmest and most confidential terms.
"Look here, James," exclaimed the shabby man, handing back the letter,"I'm going to be perfectly frank with you. Tell me if I speak the truthor if I lie. It is neither affection nor friendship which links yourlife with that woman's. Am I right?"
Flockart did not answer for some moments. His eyes were cast upon theground. "Yes, Krail," he admitted at last when the question had been putto him a second time--"yes, Krail. You speak the truth. It is neitheraffection nor friendship."
The House of Whispers Page 24
