The Sign of the Stranger

by William Le Queux

knowledge of that message.

  To try and get hold of it through her maid would be a too riskyproceeding, and besides if it contained anything secret she would nodoubt destroy it. Therefore the difficulty seemed insurmountable. Shehad re-composed herself, and had at that moment declared her intentionof dressing and going out again to pay an afternoon call, inviting twoof her guests to go with her.

  Of a sudden an idea occurred to me; therefore I went out through theservants' hall, and obtaining the bicycle belonging to Murdock, hislordship's valet, I mounted and rode down the avenue to Sibbertonpost-office.

  "Oh, Miss Allen," I said, addressing the daughter of the villagepost-master, "Lady Stanchester received a telegram just now, and doesn'tquite understand it. She wishes it repeated, please," and I placedsixpence on the counter, adding, "Her ladyship believes there is somemistake. I suppose it won't take long to repeat, will it?"

  "Oh! not very long," replied the red-haired rustic beauty.

  Whereupon I told her she need not send the copy up to the Hall, but as Iwas going back presently I would deliver it myself.

  Warr was at the door of the inn as I passed, and he called me in. Whenwe were in his back parlour he said to me with a mysterious air--

  "Do you know, sir, that that tramp who gave me a sovereign tip has beenin Sibberton again? I saw him walking through the village the daybefore yesterday with another gentleman--one who's staying up at theHall."

  "No, you're mistaken," I answered laughing. "It's Mr Smeeton, who'svery much like him, an old friend of his lordship's. I fell into justthe same error myself when I first saw him," I added, in order, ifpossible, to remove any suspicion from the worthy man's mind.

  "Well, do you know," he said laughing, "I could have sworn it was thesame man, except that his beard has been trimmed. Of course he looksdifferent, dressed as a gentleman."

  "No," I reassured him. "The man you have evidently seen is Mr Smeeton,with whom his lordship hunted big game in Africa a year or two ago."Then after a brief chat, in which he expressed surprise that the policehad now relinquished all their efforts to discover the identity of themurdered man or his assassin, I went out, returning to the littlelow-thatched cottage in which was the village post-office.

  The red-haired girl handed me a telegram addressed to the Countess ofStanchester, remarking that no error had been discovered in itstransmission, and placing it in my pocket I mounted the cycle and rodeaway up the avenue. As soon, however, as I was alone under the trees, Itook out the envelope, tore it open, and saw that the message had beenhanded in at Ovington in Essex. It was unsigned and read--

  "_To-night, Charing Cross, nine. Only bring handbag_."

  It showed that her ladyship was on the point of flight! Therefore I atonce resolved to ascertain her destination and watch her doings.

  On returning to the Hall I learnt from the servants that she had notgone out visiting as she intended, but was in her room. The men had notreturned, so I took Lolita aside, showed her the telegram, and told herto go upstairs and watch if there was any sign of her intendeddeparture. A quarter of an hour later my love came secretly to my roomand told me that she had remarked casually to her that she intended togo to town to fit a dress, which she specially wanted for agarden-party, and would probably go up to town that evening.

  That was sufficient for me. I kissed my love fondly, and telling her toremain under Keene's care, crammed some things into a bag and took thetrain at five-thirty from Kettering to St Pancras.

  I travelled by the train previous to the one she would catch, thereforeI dined leisurely at the cafe _Royal_, and at a quarter to nine stoodbeneath the clock on Charing Cross platform, watching the idlers keepingtheir appointments and the bustle of departing passengers by themidnight mail for the Continent.

  I had to exercise a good deal of caution to avoid detection; but atlast, just before the hour, I saw her approach dressed in a dark-browntravelling-gown with a brown gossamer veil that gave her the appearanceof an American globe-trotter, and was so thick that it would preventrecognition of her features.

  She hurried across from the booking-office to the platform where theContinental express was on the point of starting, as though in fear thatsome one might detain her.

  She was not alone, but at her side walked a man in grey felt hat andlong grey overcoat. In him all my interest was centred, for he was noneother than Logan.

  I had, however, no time for reflection. Only just sufficient, indeed,to dash back to the booking-office, obtain a ticket for Paris, and enterthe last compartment of the train before it moved off to our unknowndestination.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  WHAT! SAW IN THE NIGHT.

  The night mail for the Continent backed into Cannon Street for thepostal-vans, and then rushed away into the wet stormy night for DoverPier.

  The journey, as far as there, proved uneventful, but as soon as Istepped out upon the rain-swept landing-stage, I saw that our crossingwas to be a "dirty" one. Beneath the electric lamps brawny seamenpassed in shining oil-skins, and amid the bustle and shouting I saw theneat figure of the Countess with her companion hurry across the gangwayto the shelter of a private cabin, wherein she entered and closed thedoor, while Logan went below to get a drink, and change some money withthe steward, an action which was that of the constant traveller.

  Not wishing to appear too obtrusive, I remained on deck watching themails being counted in, until the last bag had been flung into the hold,the cry "All out!" sounded, the hatches were closed, and then slowly thepacket began to move out into the rough open Channel.

  When Logan emerged on deck I stood back in the darkness, taking a goodview of him. He was dressed with every appearance of a gentleman, butfrom the manner in which he paced the deck I saw that he was greatlyagitated and concerned, whether of the Countess's safety or of his own Icould, of course, not determine. Neither had I any idea why the pairwere fleeing from England, unless it was to escape some exposure whichher ladyship knew to be imminent.

  That woman was the enemy of my love; she had deceived me. Therefore thecompassion I held for her had been succeeded by a fierce and unrelentingantagonism, and I intended to watch her and discover the truth.

  I sat beneath the bridge under shelter from the driving rain, and hiddenby the darkness, while the man Logan walked to and fro, utterly heedlessof the storm. He did not go to her ladyship's cabin to inquire afterher, therefore it struck me that perhaps they might have quarrelled. Inany case his anxiety was intense.

  On landing at Calais he took her into the buffet, where they had hotcoffee, and a few moments later were joined by a thin black-hairedsallow-faced man, evidently a foreigner from the studied manner in whichhe bowed before her as she sat at the table of the restaurant.

  Then the trio sat together in earnest consultation.

  The Paris express was announced to depart, but to my surprise they tookno heed. The French capital proved not to be their destination, forpresently they rose and walked to the Bale express, the _wagon-lit_ ofwhich they entered, the conductor apparently expecting them.

  I was compelled therefore to return to the booking-office and obtain aticket. As, however, there was but one sleeping-car I could not travelin it for fear of detection, and was therefore forced to enter anordinary first-class carriage, with the prospect of a twelve hours'tedious journey.

  On we travelled until the dawn spread into a grey damp day, then the sunshone, it grew warmer, and I stretched myself upon the cushions andslept. To descend to get anything to eat was to invite detection;therefore I starved upon a pull from my flask and a couple of sandwicheswith which I had provided myself at the Calais buffet.

  From Bale I followed them to Lucerne, and from Lucerne by the Gothardrailway to Milan, where we arrived late at night, her ladyship drivingalone to the _Hotel Metropole_, opposite the _Duomo_, and the two mengoing off in a cab in another direction.

  As soon as I had watched the Countess into the _Metropole_ I went alongto the _Cavour_
, where I quickly turned in and was very soon asleep.Milan seemed to be their destination, for at the station they had beenmet by a second foreigner, an Italian evidently, a short ferret-eyedlittle man, smoking the stump of a cigar, and after the exchange of afew words he parted from them quickly and was lost to sight.

  My own idea was that he had met Logan and his friend and had told themto what address to drive. I, however, could not follow them, being bentupon watching Marigold. Next morning I sent a telegram to Keeneinforming him of my whereabouts, and then set myself to keep observationon the Countess's movements.

  Milan, the most noisy city of modern Italy, was parched and dusty atthat season of the year, and save for a few German tourists the hotelsseemed empty. There are, of course, visitors from all corners of theearth at all seasons of the year to see the wonders of the cathedral,but to the man who knows his Italy, and who loves it, there is