CHAPTER XX
PRESTON AGAIN
I had seen Dick off at Paddington, after asking the guard to keep an eyeon him as far as Windsor, and was walking thoughtfully through the parktowards Albert Gate, when a man, meeting me where the paths cross, askedif he might speak to me. Almost instantly I recognized him. It was theman who had followed Preston, Jack, and myself on the previous night,and been pointed out to us by Preston.
"I trust," he said, when I had asked him rather abruptly what he wantedto speak to me about, "that you will pardon my addressing you, sir, butthere is something rather important I should like to say to you if youhave a few minutes to spare."
"Who are you?" I inquired. "What's your name?"
"I would rather not tell you my name," he answered, "and for the momentit is inadvisable that you should know it. Shall we sit here?" he added,as we came to a wooden bench.
I am rather inquisitive, otherwise I should not have consented to hisproposal. It flashed across me, however, that whereas there could be noharm in my listening to what he wished to say, he might possibly havesomething really of interest to tell me.
"You are probably not aware," he said, when we were seated, "that Ifollowed you last night from a house in Warwick Street, Regent Street,to a restaurant in Gerrard Street, Soho; thence to Willow Road, nearHampstead Station; and thence to South Molton Street Mansions. Twogentlemen were with you."
"And may I ask why you did that?" I said carelessly, as I lit acigarette.
"That is my affair," he replied. "You have lately been associating withseveral men and women who, though you may not know it, belong to a gangof exceedingly clever criminals. These people, while mixing in Society,prey upon it. Until last night I was myself a member of this gang; for areason that I need not at present mention I have now disassociatedmyself from it for ever. To-day my late accomplices will discover that Ihave turned traitor, as they will term it, and at once they will set towork to encompass my death," he added. "I want you, Mr. Berrington, tosave me from them."
I stared at him in surprise.
"But how can I do that, and why should I do it?" I said shortly. "Idon't know who you are, and if you choose to aid and abet criminals youhave only yourself to thank when they turn upon you."
"Naturally," he answered, with what looked very like a sneer; "I don'task you to do anything in return for nothing, Mr. Berrington. But if youwill help in this crisis, I can, and will, help you. At this moment youare at a loss to know why, when you called at Willow Road an hour or soago, the woman who opened the door assured you that you had come to thewrong house. You inquired first for Miss Challoner, then for Mrs.Stapleton, and then for Hugesson Gastrell--am I not right?"
"Well, you are," I said, astonished at his knowledge.
"I was in the hall when you called, and I heard you. Gastrell, Mrs.Stapleton, and Miss Challoner were also in the house. They are therenow, but to-night they go to Paris--they will cross from Newhaven toDieppe. It was to tell you they were going to Paris that I wished tospeak to you now--at least that was one reason."
"And what are the other reasons?" I asked, with an affectation ofindifference that I was far from feeling.
"I want money, Mr. Berrington, that is one other reason," the strangersaid quickly. "You can afford to pay for information that is worthpaying for. I know everything about you, perhaps more than you yourselfknow. If you pay me enough, I can probably protect myself against thesepeople who until yesterday were my friends, but are now my enemies. AndI can put you in possession of facts which will enable you, if you actcircumspectly, presently to get the entire gang arrested."
"At what time do the three people you have just named leave for Paris?"I asked, for the news that Connie Stapleton and Dulcie were going toFrance together had given me a shock.
"To-night, at nine."
"Look here," I exclaimed, turning upon him sharply, "tell me everythingyou know, and if it is worth paying for I'll pay."
In a few minutes the stranger had put several startling facts into mypossession. Of these the most important were that on at least fouroccasions Connie Stapleton had deliberately exercised a hypnotic controlover Dulcie, and thus obtained even greater influence over her than shealready possessed; that Jack Osborne, whom I had always believed to bewholly unsusceptible to female influence, was fast falling in love, or,if not falling in love, becoming infatuated with Jasmine Gastrell--thestranger declared that Mrs. Gastrell had fallen in love with him, butthat I could not believe; that an important member of this notoriousgang of criminals which mixed so freely in Society was Sir Roland'swastrel brother, Robert, of whom neither Sir Roland nor any member ofhis family had heard for years; and that Mrs. Stapleton intended tocause Dulcie to become seriously ill while abroad, then to induce SirRoland to come to France to see her, and finally to marry him on theother side of the Channel in the small town where she intended thatDulcie should be taken ill. There were reasons, he said, though he wouldnot reveal them then, why she wished to marry Sir Roland on theContinent instead of in England, and she knew of no other way ofinducing him to cross the Channel but the means she intended to employ.
The man hardly stopped speaking when I sprang to my feet.
"How much do you want for the information you have given me?" Iexclaimed, hardly able to conceal the intense excitement I felt.
He named a high figure, and so reckless did I feel at that instant thatI told him I would pay the amount to him in gold--he had stipulated forgold--if he would call at my flat in South Molton Street at five o'clockon the following afternoon.
His expressions of gratitude appeared, I must say, to be most genuine.
"And may I ask," he said, "what you propose to do now?"
"Propose to do!" I cried. "Why, go direct to Willow Road, of course,force an entrance, and take Miss Challoner away--by force, if need be."
"You propose to go there alone?"
"Yes. For the past fortnight I have somehow suspected there might besome secret understanding between Mr. Osborne and Mrs. Gastrell--theyhave been so constantly together, though he has more than once assuredme that his intimacy was only with a view to obtaining her confidence. Idon't know why I should believe your word, the word of a stranger, inpreference to his, but now you tell me what you have told me I remembermany little things which all point to the likelihood of your statementthat he is in love with Mrs. Gastrell being true."
"I wouldn't go alone, Mr. Berrington," the stranger said in a tone ofwarning. "You don't know the people you have to deal with as I knowthem. If you would like to come to Paris with me to-night I could showyou something that would amaze you--and you would come face to facethere with Connie Stapleton and Miss Challoner, and others. Be advisedby me, and do that. I am telling you to do what I know will be best foryou. I don't ask you to pay me until we return to England."
I paused, uncertain what to decide. Thoughts crowded my brain.Supposing, after all, that this were a ruse to entrap me. Supposing thatDulcie were not going to Paris. But no, the man's statements seemedsomehow to carry conviction.
"If we cross by the same boat as they do," I said suddenly, "we shall berecognized."
He smiled grimly.
"Not if you disguise yourself as you did at Hugesson Gastrell's theother night," he said.
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how do you know that?"
He looked to right and left, then behind him. Nobody was near. Then,raising his hat, like lightning he pulled off his wig, eyebrows andmoustache, whiskers and beard, crammed them into his jacket pocket, and,with his hat on the back of his head, sat back looking at me with aquiet smile of amusement.
"Preston!" I gasped. "Good heavens, man, how do you do it?"
Producing his cigarette case, in silence he offered me a cigarette. Thenhe spoke--now in his natural voice.
"I always test my 'impersonations' when I get a chance of doing so," hesaid, "upon people who know me well, because if one can completelydeceive one's friends it gives much confidence when one comes to s
eriousbusiness. Mr. Berrington, all I have just told you is absolute truth. Ihave found it all out within the last eleven hours. More than that, I ammyself now one of the gang, and if I 'turn traitor' I shall be done todeath by them just as certainly as I am sitting here. I flatter myselfthat I have arranged it all rather cleverly--I have succeeded in placingin confinement that man who shadowed you last night, without any memberof the gang's knowing anything about his arrest or in the leastsuspecting it, and I have literally stepped into his shoes, for theseclothes and boots that I am wearing are his. I believe the end of thisabominable conspiracy is now within sight. To-night you must come withme to Paris on the boat that Miss Challoner, the woman Stapleton,Gastrell, and one or two others will cross by. I shall assume thedisguise I have just removed. You will become once more Sir AubreyBelston, we shall travel from Victoria in separate compartments, and onboard the boat I shall casually mention to my 'friends' that Sir AubreyBelston is on board. In Paris we ought to find out a lot--I have afriend there named Victor Albeury, who already knows a lot about thisaffair--and we shall, unless I am greatly mistaken. Now I must go homeand get some hours of sleep, for I have been busy since we parted in the'Tube' at Oxford Circus at midnight last night."
"But tell me," I exclaimed, my brain a whirl, "is what you told mereally true: that Osborne has become a victim to the wiles of JasmineGastrell?"
"Absolutely. I have suspected as much for several weeks, and last nightI discovered it to be an absolute fact. Mr. Berrington, when Osborneleft us last night at Russell Square station he didn't return to hishotel. Would you believe it, he had an assignation with the woman, andkept it? But what is more curious still is what you wouldn't believewhen I told it to you some minutes ago--Jasmine Gastrell has fallenmadly in love with Osborne! Isn't it astonishing? To think that anamazingly clever woman like that should let her heart get the better ofher head. But it's not the first case of the sort that I have known. Icould tell you of several similar instances of level-headed women of thecriminal class letting their hearts run away with them, and some day Iwill. But now I really must leave you. Go back to your place, pack asmuch luggage as you will need for a week or ten days--for we may be awaythat long--write Sir Aubrey Belston's name on the luggage labels in adisguised handwriting; send it to Victoria by messenger--not by your ownman, as we must take no risks whatever--and come to me not later thansix, and I will then again disguise you as Sir Aubrey Belston. You won'tbe followed by any member of the gang, for the man I am impersonatingis supposed to be shadowing you. Connie Stapleton expects AlphonseFurneaux--that's the man who followed you last night, and whom I am nowimpersonating--to meet her at Victoria at a quarter past eight to-night.You will get there a little later, and of course we must appear to betotal strangers. Keep out of sight of the woman, and of Gastrell, and ofanyone else you may see whom you remember seeing at Cumberland Place theother night. You can speak to anybody you like once we are on board theboat, but not before. The train leaves at nine. My! I am disappointedwith Osborne, more disappointed and disgusted than I can tell you. Andto think that if I had not made this discovery about him he mightunwittingly have brought about some fearful tragedy so far as you and Iare concerned! But I must really go," and, with a friendly nod, he roseand strolled away.
He had spoken rapidly, with hardly a pause, and as I watched him passout of the park I wondered how he had managed to ingratiate himself withthis gang of scoundrels. Only a day or two before we had discussed theadvisability of informing Easterton of what was taking place nightly inthe house in Cumberland Place which he had leased to Hugesson Gastrell,but we had come to the conclusion that no good end would be served bytelling him, for were any complaint to be made to Gastrell he would ofcourse declare that the people who gambled in the house were personalfriends of his whom he had every right to invite there to play.
I returned to my flat, told my man what to pack, then went out again andwalked aimlessly about the streets. A feeling of restlessness was uponme, which I could not overcome. Many strange things had happened sinceChristmas, but this, surely, was the strangest thing of all, that JackOsborne, who had persuaded me to help him in his self-imposed task oftracking down these people, should actually have come under the spell ofJasmine Gastrell's beauty and undeniable fascination. I recollected nowhis saying, when, weeks before, he had spoken of Jasmine Gastrell forthe first time, that everybody on board the ship had fallen in love withher, and that he himself had been desperately attracted by her. But Ihad thought that he spoke in jest; it had not occurred to me that hereally thought seriously about the woman. Of late, however, his mannertowards her had certainly been different, and I knew that night afternight the two had spent the evening together, ending up with supper atone of the fashionable restaurants.
Then my thoughts drifted to Dulcie. What had come over her since she hadformed this violent attachment for Connie Stapleton? In some ways sheseemed unchanged, yet in other respects she was completely altered. Fora brief ten days after we had become engaged I had seemed to be all inall to her. But from then onward she had appeared to come more and moreunder the influence of her friend, who seemed, in a sense, to besupplanting me in her affection. And now Preston had told me thatseveral times Connie Stapleton had intentionally hypnotized Dulcie, nodoubt for the purpose of obtaining greater control over her and stillfurther bending her will to hers. I could not, under the circumstances,wholly blame Dulcie for what I had at first believed to be a change inher attitude towards me. Far more readily could I blame her father forhis monstrous infatuation for the widow.
And what could be the meaning of this sudden flitting to Paris? Prestonhad given the reason, had explained it in detail, but his theory was sohorrible that I refused to believe it. Connie Stapleton might be, andobviously was, an adventuress, but surely a woman of such beauty, withsuch charm of manner and personality, and apparently so refined, couldnot actually be the monster Preston would have had me believe. The viewI held was that Connie Stapleton and some of her accomplices for somereason found it expedient to forsake England for a little while--Preston had assured me that they meant to remain upon the Continent forseveral weeks at least--and that the woman thought that by taking Dulciewith her she would be better able to persuade Sir Roland to cross theChannel, a thing he had done only once in his life, and that I had heardhim declare he would never do again, so ill had he been onthat occasion.
One of the first men I saw upon my arrival at Victoria in my disguisewas Preston disguised as Alphonse Furneaux. With him were ConnieStapleton, Dulcie, Gastrell, and one or two men I did not rememberhaving seen before. Doris Lorrimer was also there.
Obsequious officials were hurrying about doing their bidding, inanticipation of generous _largesse_. Here and there little groups ofpassengers stood staring at them, obviously under the impression thatthey must be people of some importance. Acting upon Preston'sinstructions I kept well out of sight until within a minute or two ofnine o'clock, by which time the widow and her companions had enteredtheir saloon carriage.
I had hardly stepped into my first-class compartment, which was some waybehind the saloon, and settled myself comfortably for the journey toNewhaven, when a lady, the only other occupant, suddenly exclaimed:
"Aubrey, don't you recognize me, or are you intentionally cutting me?"
I glanced across at her. She was a woman of middle age, obviously alady, well dressed, but not good-looking. Hastily recovering my presenceof mind, I answered quickly:
"I beg your pardon. Please don't think me rude; I was worrying about atrunk of mine that I think has been left behind, and for the moment Ididn't see you"--she was seated on the opposite side, in the cornerfarthest from me.
"Of course I don't think you rude, you foolish boy," she exclaimedgaily. "How could I? And how are you, dear? and where are you going? Ihad no idea you had already returned from your travels."
"I got back only last week," I said, feeling my way cautiously. "Howwell you are looking. Let me see, when was it we last met?"
; She broke into a ripple of laughter.
"Oh, Aubrey," she exclaimed, "what a wag you are! When are you going togrow up, I wonder. Now, do be serious and answer that question I put tothe last night we were together."
This was awful. The train had only just started, and here I was face toface with a woman evidently an intimate friend of Sir Aubrey Belston's,who for aught I knew might insist on talking to me and cross-questioningme all the way to Newhaven. I decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Look here," I exclaimed, becoming suddenly serious, "don't let us talkabout that any more. The answer I gave you that night was final. I havethought the whole thing over carefully, and, much as I should like to,I can't change my mind."
She stared at me, evidently dumbfounded. I thought she looked ratherfrightened. Her lips parted as if she were going to speak again, thenshut tightly. A minute or more passed, during which time she kept herhead averted, gazing out into the darkness. And then all at once, to myhorror, she burst into tears, and began sobbing hysterically.
The sight of a woman in tears always affects me strangely. I rose frommy seat and went over to her, and, now seated facing her, endeavoured byevery means I could think of to soothe her.
"Don't cry--oh, please don't," I said sympathetically. "It isn't myfault, you know; I would do anything I could for you, I am sure you knowthat, but what you ask is impossible."
"But _why_ is it impossible?" she suddenly burst out impetuously,looking up into my face with tear-stained eyes. "Give me a good reasonfor your refusal and I won't say a word more."
Oh, if only I knew what it was she had asked Sir Aubrey that night--whatit was she wanted him to do. Never in my life before had I been in suchan awful predicament. And then suddenly it flashed upon me that some dayshe would for certain meet the real Sir Aubrey Belston again, and whatwould happen then when she referred to this meeting in the train and hestoutly denied--as of course he would--meeting her at all? What mischiefmight I not unwittingly be doing? What havoc might I not be creating? Ifonly I could discover her name it might in some way help me to get outof this terrible tangle.
The train was slowing down now. Presently it stopped. We were atCroydon. The door opened and other travellers entered our compartment.Putting some of my belongings on to my seat, I passed into the corridorand entered a smoking compartment.
The man seated opposite me was buried in a newspaper. Some moments afterthe train had started again, he lowered it, and I saw his face. At oncehe raised his eyebrows in recognition; then, extending his hand, greetedme most cordially.
I was face to face again with Hugesson Gastrell!
The Four Faces: A Mystery Page 20
