CHAPTER XII
"THE CRIMSON BLIND"
Hatherly Bell turned up at Downend Terrace gay and debonair as if he hadnot a single trouble in the world. His evening dress was of the smartestand he had a rose in his buttonhole. From his cab he took a square brownpaper parcel, which he deposited in David's study with particular care.
He made no allusion whatever to the sterner business of the evening; hewas gay and light-hearted as a child, so that Mrs. Steel sat up quite anhour later than her usual time, absolutely unconscious of the fact thatshe had broken a rigid rule of ten years' standing.
"Now let us go into the study and smoke a cigar," David suggested.
Bell dragged a long deck-chair into the conservatory and lighted a Massa.Steel's offer of whisky and soda was declined.
"An ideal place for a novelist who has a keen eye for the beautiful,"he said. "There you have your books and pictures, your stained glassand china, and when you turn your eyes this way they are gladdened bygreen foliage and lovely flowers. It's hard to connect such a room witha tragedy."
"And yet the tragedy was worked out close by where you are sitting. Butnever mind that. Come to your story, and let me see if we can fit itinto mine."
Bell took a fresh pull at his cigar and plunged into his subject.
"About seven years ago professional business took me to Amsterdam; abrilliant young medical genius who was drinking himself prematurely intohis grave had made some wonderful discoveries relating to the brain andpsychology generally, so I decided to learn what I could before it was too late. I found the young doctor to be an exceedingly good fellow, only too ready to speak of his discoveries, and there I stayed for a year. My word! what do I not owe to that misguided mind! And what a revolution he would have made in medicine and surgery had he only lived!
"Well, in Amsterdam I got to know everybody who was worthknowing--medical, artistic, social. And amongst the rest was anEnglishman called Lord Littimer, his son, and an exceedingly clevernephew of his, Henson by name, who was the son's tutor. Littimer was asavant, a scholar, and a fine connoisseur as regarded pictures. He waspopularly supposed to have the finest collection of old prints inEngland. He would travel anywhere in search of something fresh, and therumour of some apocryphal treasure in Amsterdam had brought him thither.He and I were friends from the first, as, indeed, were the son andmyself. Henson, the nephew, was more quiet and reserved, but fond, as Idiscovered, of a little secret dissipation.
"In those days I was not averse to a little life myself. I waspassionately fond of all games of cards, and I am afraid that I was inthe habit of gambling to a greater extent than I could afford. I don'tgamble now and I don't play cards: in fact, I shall never touch a cardagain as long as I live. Why, you shall hear all in good time.
"We were all getting on very well together at that time when LordLittimer's sister paid us a visit. She came accompanied by a daughtercalled Enid. I will not describe her, because no words of mine could doher justice. In a word, I fell over head and ears in love with Enid, andin that state I have remained ever since. Of all the crosses that I haveto bear the knowledge that I love Enid and that she loves--anddespises--me, is by far the heaviest. But I don't want to dwell uponythat."
"We were a very happy party there until Van Sneck and Von Gulden turnedup. Enid and I had come to an understanding, and, though we kept oursecret, we were not going to do so for long. From the very first VonGulden admired her. He was a handsome, swaggering soldier, agood-looking, wealthy man, who had a great reputation for gallantry, andsomething worse. Perhaps the fellow guessed how things lay, for he nevertroubled to conceal his dislike and contempt for me. It is no fault ofmine that I am extremely sensitive as to my personal appearance, but VonGulden played upon it until he drove me nearly mad. He challenged mesneeringly to certain sports wherein he knew I could not shine; hechallenged me to ecarte, where I fancied I was his master.
"Was I? Well, we had been dining that night, and perhaps too freely, forI entirely lost my head before I began the game in earnest. Those covertsneers had nearly driven me mad. To make a long story short, when I gotup from the table that night, I owed my opponent nearly L800, without thefaintest prospect of paying a tenth part of it. I was only a poor,ambitious young man then, with my way to make in the world. And if thatmoney were not forthcoming in the next few days I was utterly ruined."
"The following morning the great discovery was made. The Van Sneck I havealluded to was an artist, a dealer, a man of the shadiest reputation,whom my patron, Lord Littimer, had picked up. It was Van Sneck whoproduced the copy of 'The Crimson Blind.' Not only did he produce thecopy, but he produced the history from some recently discovered papersrelating to the Keizerskroon Tavern of the year 1656, which would havesatisfied a more exacting man than Littimer. In the end the Viscountpurchased the engraving for L800 English.
"You can imagine how delighted he was with his prize--he had secured anengraving by Rembrandt that was absolutely unique. Under more favourablecircumstances I should have shared that pleasure. But I was face to facewith ruin, and therefore I had but small heart for rejoicing.
"I came down the next morning after a sleepless night, and with a wildendeavour to scheme some way of getting the money to pay my creditor. Tomy absolute amazement I found a polite note from the lieutenant coldlythanking me for the notes I had sent him by messenger, and handing me aformal receipt for L800. At first I regarded it as a hoax. But, with allhis queer ways, Von Gulden was a gentleman. Somebody had paid the debtfor me. And somebody had, though I have never found out to this day."
"All the same, you have your suspicions?" Steel suggested.
"I have a very strong suspicion, but I have never been able to verify it.All the same, you can imagine what an enormous weight it was off my mind,and how comparatively cheerful I was as I crossed over to the hotel ofLord Littimer after breakfast. I found him literally beside himself withpassion. Some thief had got into his room in the night and stolen hisRembrandt. The frame was intact, but the engraving had been rolled up andtaken away."
"Very like the story of the stolen Gainsborough."
"No doubt the one theft inspired the other. I was sent off on foot tolook for Van Sneck, only to find that he had suddenly left the city. Hehad got into trouble with the police, and had fled to avoid being sent togaol. And from that day to this nothing has been seen of that picture."
"But I read to-day that it is still in Littimer Castle," said David.
"Another one," Bell observed. "Oblige me by opening yonder parcel. Thereyou see is the print that I purchased to-day for L5. This, _this_, myfriend, is the print that was stolen from Littimer's lodgings inAmsterdam. If you look closely at it you will see four dull red spots inthe left-hand corner. They are supposed to be blood-spots from a cutfinger of the artist. I am prepared to swear that this is the very print,frame and all, that was purchased in Amsterdam from that shady scoundrelVan Sneck."
"But Littimer is credited with having one in his collection,"David urged.
"He has one in his collection," Bell said, coolly, "And, moreover, he isfirmly under the impression that he is at present happy in the possessionof his own lost treasure. And up to this very day I was under exactly thesame delusion. Now I know that there must have been two copies of theplate, and that this knowledge was used to ruin me."
"But," Steel murmured, "I don't exactly see--"
"I am just coming to that. We hunted high and low for the picture, butnowhere could it be found. The affair created a profound impression inAmsterdam. A day or two later Von Gulden went back to his duty on theBelgian frontier and business called me home. I packed my solitaryportmanteau and departed. When I arrived at the frontier I opened myluggage for the Custom officer and the whole contents were turned outwithout ceremony. On the bottom was a roll of paper on a stick that Iquite failed to recognise. An inquisitive Customs House officer opened itand immediately called the lieutenant in charge. Strange to say, heproved to be Von Gulden. He came up to me, very grave
ly, with the paperin his hand.
"'May I inquire how this came amongst your luggage?' he asked.
"I could say nothing; I was dumb. For there lay the Rembrandt. The redspots had been smudged out of the corner, but there, the picture was.
"Well, I lost my head then. I accused Von Gulden of all kinds ofdisgraceful things. And he behaved like a gentleman--he made me ashamedof myself. But he kept the picture and returned it to Littimer, and Iwas ruined. Lord Littimer declined to prosecute, but he would not see meand he would hear of no explanation. Indeed, I had none to offer. Enidrefused to see me also or reply to my letters. The story of my biggambling debt, and its liquidation, got about. Steel, I was ruined. Someenemy had done this thing, and from that day to this I have been amarked man."
"But how on earth was it done?" Steel cried.
"For the present I can only make surmises," Bell replied. "Van Sneck wasa slippery dog. Of course, he had found two of those plates. He kept theone back so as to sell the other at a fancy price. My enemy discoveredthis, and Van Sneck's sudden flight was his opportunity. He could affordto get rid of me at an apparently dear rate. He stole Littimer'sengraving--in fact, he must have done so, or I should not have it at thismoment. Then he smudged out some imaginary spots on the other and hid itin my luggage, knowing that it would be found. Also he knew that it wouldbe returned to Littimer, and that the stolen plate could be laid asideand produced at some remote date as an original find. The find has beenmine, and it will go hard if I can't get to the bottom of the mysterynow. It is strange that your mysterious trouble and mine should be boundup so closely together, but in the end it will simplify matters, for thevery reason that we are both on the hunt for the same man."
"Which man we have got to find, Bell."
"Granted. We will bait for him as one does for a wily old trout. The flyshall be the Rembrandt, and you see he will rise to it in time. Butbeyond this I have made one or two important discoveries to-day. We aregoing to the house of the strange lady who owns 218 and 219, BrunswickSquare, and I shall be greatly mistaken if she does not prove to be anold acquaintance of mine. There will be danger."
"You propose to go to-night?"
"I propose to go at once," Bell said. "Dark hours are always best fordark business. Now, which is the nearest way to Longdean Grange?"
"So the House of the Silent Sorrow, as they call it, is to be ourdestination! I must confess that the place has ever held a strangefascination for me. We will go over the golf links and behind Ovingdeanvillage. It is a rare spot for a tragedy."
Bell rose and lighted a fresh cigar.
"Come along," he said. "Poke that Rembrandt behind your books with itsface to the wall. I would not lose that for anything now. No, on secondthoughts I find I shall have to take it with me."
David closed the door carefully behind him, and the two stepped out intothe night.
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