The Sign of the Stranger

by William Le Queux

calmly in the face, asthough undecided how to act. At last, after full deliberation, he said,in a much more conciliatory tone--

  "Really, Mr Woodhouse, I don't know, after all, whether either of uswill gain anything by being antagonists. We both have our own ends toserve. You love Lady Lolita, and wish to--well--to save her; while I,too, have an object in view--a distinct object. Why cannot we unite ina friendly manner?"

  "Against whom?"

  "Against those who seek to bring ruin and disgrace upon the woman youlove."

  "But you are her enemy," I said. "How can I join you in this affair?"

  "Ah, there you are quite mistaken. She, too, is mistaken. True, I wasonce her enemy, but circumstances have changed, and I am now herfriend."

  "Is your friendship so prone then to being influenced by every adversewind that blows?" I asked, by no means convinced of the genuineness ofhis proposals.

  "Of course you hesitate," he remarked. "And perhaps that is onlynatural. Let us, however, call Lady Lolita into consultation."

  This suggestion of his I readily acted upon, and ringing for a servanttold him to find her ladyship at once, and ask her whether she couldmake it convenient to see me for a moment in the red room on businessconnected with next day's shooting luncheon.

  Then we put down our cues and together walked through the long corridorsto the old wing of the great mansion, to the red room, a small boudoirto which visitors never went, and where I knew that we might exchangeconfidences in secret.

  I switched on the electric light, and standing together in the smallold-fashioned apartment, furnished in crimson silk damask of a centuryago, and red silk upon the walls, we anxiously awaited her coming.

  At last we heard her light footstep in the corridor, but she halted uponthe threshold, utterly taken aback at sight of my companion. She hadavoided him studiously all the evening, and was of course, unaware ofour present intention.

  "I regret very much to call your ladyship here," Keene commenced. "Butit seems to have become imperative that Mr Woodhouse and I should, inyour presence, arrive at some understanding."

  Though radiant in dress, her beautiful face was pale to the lips, andher thin hands trembled nervously.

  She advanced slowly without a word, like a woman in a dream, andstepping up behind her I closed the door and locked it.

  "I must explain, Lady Lolita," said Keene, "that had I known you werereturning here I should have left before your arrival, for I have nodesire to thrust upon you my presence, which I know must, having regardto the past, be most unwelcome. However, we have met, and I am a guesthere in your home. Further circumstances compel me to remain here forsome time longer, therefore I am anxious that we should thoroughlyunderstand one another."

  "I received the letter handed me by Warr, the innkeeper. It wassufficiently explanatory," she remarked in a hard unnatural voice,standing with her hand upon the chair back, and looking straight intohis calm countenance.

  "We may, for the present, disregard that letter," he said. "You willrecollect what I said to you confidentially in the hall an hour ago.You admitted that you reciprocate Mr Woodhouse's affection, and youdeclared that he was your friend."

  "And so I am," I maintained.

  "Exactly. Indeed, as far as I can ascertain, it seems that he is a mostdevoted friend. It is for that very reason that I have asked you tocome here and listen to what I have to say."

  "I am all attention," she responded blankly, with that inertness born ofdespair. "My enemies have combined to crush me--that I know."

  "Well, first let me tell you, Lady Lolita, that although I have shownmyself antagonistic in the past, my convictions have now become changed,and I regret all that I may have done to cause you pain and injury. Ifyou can really I forgive, will hold out my hand in friendship," and hestretched forth his hand to her as pledge of his sincerity.

  At first she hesitated, unable to believe that the man whom she hadregarded as her bitterest enemy should have become so completely, and sosuddenly her friend. Like myself, she could not at first bring herselfto put perfect faith in him. Yet, in a few moments, seeing his evidentearnestness, she took his hand, and allowed him to wring hers in genuinefriendship.

  "Very well," he said in a gratified tone. "That is the first step. Thesecond is to admit to you that while I am ready to render you assistanceinstead of hounding you down to destruction, as I had intended, I havealso a motive--one that must remain my own secret. Mr Woodhouse, here,no doubt regards my return, my actions, and my arrival as guest in thishouse as suspicious. I admit that all the circumstances are exceedinglyremarkable, and require an explanation--which perhaps you will give himlater. But what is so immediately important is the course of actionwhich we shall pursue, now that I am united to assist you."

  "But do you really mean to act on my behalf, Mr Keene?" asked my loveeagerly, as though a new future were opened out to her by the man'ssuggestion.

  "I have given my hand as pledge," was his reply. "There is anallegation against you--a fact of which I presume Mr Woodhouse isaware. And your bitterest enemy--one who, by a word, could free you--isa woman."

  "Willoughby--I mean Mr Woodhouse--has told me. It is Marigold."

  "Yes. And she refuses to speak. Our efforts must be made towardscompelling her," he said.

  But in that moment I recollected how the Countess had defied him, andthreatened him with a terrible exposure. Of what?

  "And Marie Lejeune? Where is she?" inquired Lolita.

  "She has disappeared, it seems. At least I don't know where she is atthis moment. For the present we need not be concerned about her. Wehave to deal with a shrewd and clever woman, whose future depends uponyour future. If you live she must die,--if you die, she will live."

  He spoke the words with slow distinctness, his eyes fixed upon her,watching the effect of his utterances.

  "How can I live?" she asked, in a low hoarse voice. "You knoweverything--you know my peril."

  "True. I know everything," was the man's reply. "I know, too, how youhave suffered I know how Mr Woodhouse, loving you as he does, must alsosuffer. Believe me, Lady Lolita, although I am but a rough man unusednowadays to the ways of good society, I am not altogether devoid ofsympathy for a woman, and that sympathy will cause me to guard thesecret of your affection. I wish you to consider that, in me, insteadof an enemy, you have a sincere friend. I am fully aware of theexposure which Mr Woodhouse might make to George, but it would not onlybe against my interests, but against yours."

  "Yet it would bring Marigold to her knees to beg forgiveness," my loveremarked.

  "Yes. But surely you know that woman well enough to be aware that hervengeance would fall heavily upon you--that you would be hurled to ruinand disgrace before she herself would give way and fall."

  "I believed her to be my friend," was Lolita's remark.

  "You only believed as others believe. There are many persons to whomshe acts the false friend--her husband not excepted. You have only tosit in the smoking-rooms of certain London clubs in order to hear theexpression of public opinion regarding her. The clubs always know morefacts about a man's wife than her own husband."

  "Well," I exclaimed, "what is your advice? How shall we act?"

  Even now I was not altogether convinced of Keene's good-will. Thehorror and fear in which Lolita had formerly held him somehow clung tome, and I could not help suspecting that this man who had struck up anacquaintance with George in the wilds of the Zambesi, and had come soboldly among those whom it was his intention to unmask, was now playingus false.

  Yet in word and manner he was perfectly open and straightforward.

  "Have patience, Lady Lolita," he urged. "Mr Woodhouse will assist mein this very difficult piece of diplomacy that we are about toundertake. Had it not been for the fact that our friend hereunfortunately gave Marie Lejeune warning that night in Chelsea, when thepolice were waiting to trap her, we should have had no necessity forthis present scheming. The truth would then h
ave been revealed and theguilty would have gone to their just punishment."

  "I know! I know!" I cried. "It was foolish on my part. But Ibelieved I was acting in Lady Lolita's interests. I see, however, thatI made a mistake--a fatal mistake."

  "We must rectify it," he said. "Her ladyship has been frank with meconcerning your mutual affection, and I will not stand by and see herhurled to her grave by the dastardly schemes of her enemies. Youadmitted to me that you discovered upon the body of Hugh Wingfield acertain paper in cipher. Will you not allow me sight of it?"

  "A paper in cipher!" gasped my love, glancing at me. "Was that foundupon him?"

  "Yes," was my reply. "I discovered a paper in a woman's hand, andwritten in the chequer-board cipher."

  "And the keyword was what?" she inquired in breathless eagerness,turning her great blue eyes to mine.

  "Ah! I haven't any idea of the keyword," I admitted.

  "Then you haven't been able to make it out!" she remarked, breathingmore freely. "You don't know to what it refers?"

  "No," I responded frankly. "I am in ignorance. But if you will remaina moment I'll go to my room and fetch it."

  "You need not," was her reply. "It is quite unnecessary."

  "Why?"

  "Well, because I chance to know what is contained in it, and that therewas nothing of importance."

  Did she imply that she had written that secret message herself? Iglanced at her countenance, and somehow became convinced that she wasstill bent upon the concealment of the truth, a conviction that was bothirritating and tantalising.

  Mystery had succeeded mystery, until I admit that I was now overcome byblank bewilderment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  WHICH TELLS OF A HEART'S DESIRE.

  The result of our consultation did not, as far as I was concerned,enlighten me upon one single point connected with the puzzling affair.

  Certain matters were arranged between the man Keene and the woman I sodearly loved, but strangely enough both were equally careful to allow meno loop-hole through which to gain knowledge of their motives or thesecret they held.

  I made no mention of the remarkable affair at the lonely farm a fewmiles distant, nor did I inquire of Keene his object in lying concealedthere, or of the identity of those foreigners who were the man Logan'sfriends in hiding. I felt it wise to keep all this knowledge to myself.

  I told Lolita, however, how I had discovered that the police hadintroduced a female detective as servant to the Stanchester household,and that her inquiries had been directed towards endeavouring todiscover the Ownership of the Louis Quinze shoes, the print of which hadbeen found at the spot where Wingfield had fallen.

  The news fell upon her like a thunderbolt. She stood utterly unable toreply.

  Keene said nothing. He merely looked at her, and then, sighing, turnedaway.

  I did not tell them that a week ago, when passing the cottage of Jacobs,one of the gamekeepers, the man asked me to enter and see something. Ihad followed the man in, and producing a muddy damp-stained ermine cloakmuch soiled and ruined by exposure to the weather, he said--

  "I found this yesterday in the Monk's Wood, sir, an' I've been wonderingif it might belong to anybody up at the Hall?"

  Instantly I had recognised it as Lolita's, the one she must evidentlyhave worn on the night of the tragedy! It was torn in one part, and asmall piece was missing--the piece which had been found near where thedead man lay!

  In a moment I had invented an excuse.

  "Why," I said, "that's the cape my sister lost when she was staying withme. She went out with her little daughter to pick wild flowers, laid itdown in the wood and forgot all about it."

  Then I gladly took possession of it, gave Jacobs a tip, dropping a hintat the same time that it was not necessary for him to talk about it, forif he did there would be all sorts of wild theories formed as to itsconnexion with the mysterious tragedy. "The police would be sure tobegin worrying over nothing," I added.

  "I quite understand, sir," was the gamekeeper's answer. "Mr Redway andhis men are worse than useless. They've made a lot of fuss and haven'teven found out yet who the poor young man was! I shall say nothingabout it, for they'd only begin to question and worry me, as well asyou."

  And so I had taken the fur cape, and that same night had surreptitiouslyburied it in my garden.

  When at last the stranger's consultation with Lolita had ended, Irecognised how completely my love was in the man's thraldom. He heldpower over her inevitable and complete. Why?

  Was it because he knew her guilty secret?

  She had, in a moment of desperation, declared that he did, and besoughthim to spare her.

  "I will do my best," was his rather evasive answer. "The man who lovesyou, Lady Lolita, will help me, and between us we may, I hope, effectyour freedom."

  "I am ready to do anything--to go anywhere in order to serve herladyship," I declared, with deep earnestness. "I am only glad that wehave now come to a thorough understanding."

  "Your attention must be directed towards the actions of the Countess,"was Keene's reply. "Watch her, and see what she does, and whom shemeets. I am unable to approach her because she fears me, and also--well, to be frank--she is no friend of mine any more than she is of LadyLolita."

  "Very well," I agreed. "I will leave Lady Lolita to your protection andturn my efforts towards watching the Countess. But," I added, "I ampuzzled by all this mystery and all these conflicting motives."

  "No doubt," he said, as my love wished us good-night, grasping both myhands in trustful thankfulness. "It is but natural. When you know thereal facts you will find it to be stranger than you have ever dreamed--more tragic--more terrible--more bewildering. The truth, Mr Woodhouse,will stagger you--as it will the world!"

  And with that emphatic expression of opinion we rejoined the men in thesmoking-room, had a final whisky-and-soda and cigarettes, and thenparted for the night.

  Next morning at five the cry of the hounds passing across the parkawakened me, and I knew that the Earl was already out cubbing, leavinghis party to go shooting after breakfast. Therefore I rose, and wasearly at work at my desk, for a quantity of the kennel accounts had comein overnight and required checking.

  My mind was full of what had passed between us in the red room, and Iwas anxious to obtain opportunity to watch the young and brilliantmistress of the house.

  The shoot that day was over at Beanfield Lawns, and after breakfast themen, including Keene, drove there in the new Mercedes car, a merryparty, leaving the ladies to accompany the luncheon. Through themorning I was busy. Once I encountered Lolita in one of the corridors,and found her just a trifle more hopeful.

  "Act on Mr Keene's suggestion," she urged. "Watch Marigold closely,and ascertain what she is doing. From what I've seen to-day I believethere is something curious in progress."

  "Rely upon me," I answered, "to serve you dearest. I will do anything--that you know."

  "Yes--I feel sure you will," she responded smiling sweetly upon me, afresh erect figure in her clean cotton blouse. "I put my trust entirelyin you."

  "And I will not betray it," I declared in deep earnestness.

  Then we parted. She had her hat on, and was going out, I knew, to herSaints' Garden, in order to give directions to the gardener who attendedto it. The thought brought back to me a recollection of my recentconversation with the Countess at that same spot, and I returned to myroom and was soon again immersed in my rather onerous duties.

  About noon the ladies left in the Panhard, carrying the luncheon, and aquiet fell upon the great old mansion. I interviewed the house-stewardand his wife regarding stores to be ordered, ate my luncheon in my room,and afterwards started out to walk to my house at Sibberton, for whenthere were guests at the Hall, and especially during theshooting-season, I was seldom able to get home, owing to my multifariousduties.

  I was passing the Countess's boudoir--the door of which stood open--andhaving been urged to
keep careful watch upon her, I searched herwaste-paper basket. The torn letters, however, were of no account--theusual correspondence a fashionable woman receives. Therefore I wasdisappointed. In her ladyship's every movement I now scented suspicion.Hitherto I had watched Lolita, and found mystery in all her movements,and now it was the giddy handsome woman so popular in her own gay set ofbanjo-playing, skirt-dancing, cake-walking and bridge-playing. I wouldhave gone with the shooting-party over to Beanfield, but I had beenprevented by pressure of work, and now I was rather sorry that I had notdeferred the accounts and taken a gun.

  About three o'clock the ladies returned, a gay bevy of well-dressedbeauties, and as I stood chatting with them in the hall, a servanthanded the hostess a telegram.

  I watched how her countenance changed as she read it, then crushing itin her hand, she suddenly recovered herself and thrust it into herpocket. The message contained something that caused her anxiety--ofthat I was convinced. Her guests had not noticed the quick opening ofher eyes, and the slight movement of the mouth betraying apprehension,as the words were revealed to her. What could they be? How I longed todiscover.

  Lolita, who, lounging in a chair, was chatting with a pretty young girlin tweeds, the daughter of a very up-to-date mother, looked across at mequickly, as though to place me on the alert, and then I fell towondering how to obtain