The Red Symbol

by John Ironside

  CHAPTER XXVII

  AT THE POLICE COURT

  The threat was sufficient and Jim capitulated.

  "Though you are a quixotic fool, Maurice, and no mistake," he assertedvehemently.

  "Tell me something I don't know," I suggested. "Something pleasant, fora change. How's Mary?"

  "Not at all well; that's why we went down to Cornwall last week; we'vetaken a cottage there for the summer. The town is frightfully stuffy,and the poor little woman is quite done up. She's been worrying aboutAnne, too, as I said; and now she'd be worrying about you! She wanted tocome up with me yesterday, when I got the wire,--it was forwarded fromChelsea,--but I wouldn't let her; and she'll be awfully upset when shesees the papers to-day. We don't get 'em till the afternoon down there."

  "Well, let her have a wire beforehand," I counselled. "Tell her I'm allright, and send her my love. You'll turn up at the court to-morrow tosee me through, I suppose? Tell Mary I'll probably come down to Morwenwith you on Friday. That'll cheer her up no end."

  "I hope you may! But suppose it goes against you, and you're committedfor trial?" Jim demanded gloomily. His customary cheeriness seemed tohave deserted him altogether at this juncture.

  "I'm not going to suppose anything so unpleasant till I have to," Iasserted. "Be off with you, and send that wire to Mary!"

  I wanted to get rid of him. He wasn't exactly an inspiriting companionjust now; besides, I thought it possible that Southbourne might come tosee me again; and I had determined to tackle him about that portrait,and try to exact the same pledge from him that I had from Jim. He might,of course, have shown it to a dozen people, as he had to Jim; and on theother hand he might not.

  He came right enough, and I opened on him at once. He looked at me inhis lazy way, through half-closed lids,--I don't think I've ever seenthat man open his eyes full,--and smiled.

  "So you do know the lady, after all," he remarked.

  "I'm not talking of the original of the portrait, but of MissPendennis," I retorted calmly. "I've seen Cayley, and he's quite readyto acknowledge that he was misled by the likeness; but so may otherpeople be if you've been showing it around."

  "Well, no; as it happens, I haven't done that. Only you and he have seenit, besides myself. I showed it him because I knew you and he wereintimate, and I wanted to see if he would recognize her, as you did,--orthought you did,--when I showed it you, though you wouldn't own up toit. I'm really curious to know who the original is."

  "So am I, to a certain extent; but anyhow, she's not Miss Pendennis!" Isaid decisively; though whether he believed me or not I can't say. "AndI won't have her name even mentioned in connection with that portrait!"

  "And therefore with,--but no matter," he said slowly. "I wish, for yourown sake, and not merely to satisfy my curiosity, that you would befrank with me, or, if not with me, at least with Sir George. However,I'll do what you ask. I'll make no further attempts, at present, todiscover the original of that portrait."

  That was not precisely what I had asked him, but I let it pass. I knewby his way of saying it that he shared my conviction--and Jim's--that itwas Anne's portrait right enough; but I had gained my point, and thatwas the main thing.

  The hearing at the police court next day was more of an ordeal than Ihad anticipated, chiefly because of my physical condition. I had seemedastonishingly fit when I started,--in a cab, accompanied by a couple ofpolicemen,--considering the extent of my injuries, and the sixty hours'journey I had just come through; and I was anxious to get the thingover. But when I got into the crowded court, where I saw numbers offamiliar faces, including Mary's little white one,--she had come up fromCornwall after all, bless her!--I suddenly felt myself as weak as a cat.I was allowed a seat in the dock, and I leaned back in it with what wasafterwards described by the reporters as "an apathetic air," though Iwas really trying my hardest to avoid making an ass of myself byfainting outright. That effort occupied all the energy I had, and I onlyheard scraps of the evidence, which seemed, to my dulled brain, torefer to some one else and not to me at all.

  At last there came a confused noise, shouting and clapping, and above ita stentorian voice.

  "Silence! Silence in the court!"

  Some one grasped my right arm--just where the bandage was, though hedidn't know that--and hurt me so badly that I started up involuntarily,to find Sir George and Southbourne just in front of the dock holding outtheir hands to me, and I heard a voice somewhere near.

  "Come along, sir, this way; you can follow to the ante-room, gentlemen;can't have a demonstration in Court."

  I felt myself guided along by the grip on my arm that was like a red-hotvice; there were people pressing about me, all talking at once, andshaking hands with me.

  I heard Southbourne say, sharper and quicker than I'd ever heard himspeak before:

  "Here, look out! Stand back, some of you!"

  The next I knew I was lying on a leather sofa with my head resting onsomething soft. My collar and tie lay on the floor beside me, and myface was wet, and something warm splashed down on it, just as I began totry and recollect what had happened. Then I found that I was resting onMary's shoulder, and she was crying softly; it was one of her tears thatwas trickling down my nose at this instant. She wiped it off with herdamp little handkerchief.

  "You poor boy; you gave us a real fright this time," she exclaimed,smiling through her tears,--a wan little ghost of a smile. "But we'llsoon have you all right again when we get you home."

  "I'm all right now, dear; I'm sorry I've upset you so," I said, and Jimbustled forward with some brandy in a flask, and helped me sit up.

  I saw then that Sir George and Southbourne were still in the room; thelawyer was sitting on a table close by, watching me through hisgold-rimmed pince-nez, and Southbourne was standing with his back to us,staring out of the window.

  "What's happened, anyhow?" I asked, and Sir George got off the table andcame up to me.

  "Charge dismissed; I congratulate you, Mr. Wynn," he said genially."There wasn't a shred of real evidence against you; though they tried tomake a lot out of that bit of withered geranium found in yourwaste-paper basket; just because the housekeeper remembered thatCassavetti had a red flower in his buttonhole when he came in; but I wasable to smash that point at once, thanks to your cousin."

  He bowed towards Mary, who, as soon as she saw me recovering, hadslipped away, and was pretending to adjust her hat before a dingymirror.

  "Why, what did Mary do?"

  "Passed me a note saying that you had the buttonhole when you left theCecil. I called her as a witness and she gave her evidence splendidly."

  "Lots of the men had them," Mary put in hurriedly. "I had one, too, andso did Anne--quite a bunch. And my! I should like to know what thathousekeeper had been about not to empty the waste-paper basket before.I don't suppose he's touched your rooms since you left them, Maurice!"

  "It might have been a very difficult point," Sir George continuedjudicially; "the only one, in fact. For Lord Southbourne's evidencedisposed of the theory the police had formed that you had returnedearlier in the evening, and that when you did go in and found the dooropen your conduct was a mere feint to avert suspicion. And then therewas the entire lack of motive, and the derivative evidence that morethan one person--and one of them a woman--had been engaged in ransackingthe rooms. Yes, it was a preposterous charge!"

  "But it served its purpose all right," drawled Southbourne, strollingforward. "They'd have taken their time if I'd set them on your trackjust because you had disappeared. Congratulations, Wynn. You've had morethan enough handshaking, so I won't inflict any more on you. Wonder whatscrape you'll find yourself in next?"

  "He won't have the chance of getting into any more for some time tocome. I shall take care of that!" Mary asserted, with pretty severity."Put his collar on, Jim; and we'll get him into the brougham."

  "My motor's outside, Mrs. Cayley. Do have that. It's quicker androomier. Come on, Wynn; take my arm; that's all right. You stand by onhis other s
ide, Cayley. Sir George, will you take Mrs. Cayley and fetchthe motor round to the side entrance? We'll follow."

  I guess I'd misjudged him in the days when I'd thought him acold-blooded cynic. He had certainly proved a good friend to me rightthrough this episode, and now, impassive as ever, he helped me along andstowed me into the big motor.

  Half the journalists in London seemed to be waiting outside, and raiseda cheer as we appeared. Mary declared that it was quite a triumphantexit.