Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo

by William Le Queux

  SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER

  ON THE SURREY HILLS

  On the following morning, about twelve o'clock, Emily, Mrs. Mason'sstout maid-of-all-work, showed a tall, well-dressed man into Hugh'sfrowsy little sitting-room where he sat reading.

  He sprang to his feet when he recognized his visitor to be CharlesBenton.

  "Well my boy!" cried his visitor cheerily. "So I've found you at last!We all thought you were on the Continent, lying low somewhere."

  "So I have been," replied the young man faintly. "You've heard of thataffair at Monte Carlo?"

  "Of course. And you are suspected--wanted by the police? That's why I'mhere," Benton replied. "This place isn't safe for you. You must get awayfrom it at once," he added, lowering his voice.

  "Why isn't it safe?"

  "Because at Scotland Yard they know you are somewhere in Kensington, andthey're hunting high and low for you."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because Harpur, one of the assistant Commissioners of Police, happenedto be in the club yesterday, and we chatted. So I pumped him as to thesuspected person from Monte Carlo, and he declared that you were knownto be in this district, and your arrest was only a matter of time. Soyou must clear out at once."

  "Where to?" asked Hugh blankly.

  "Well, there's a lady you met once or twice with me, Mrs. Bond. She willbe delighted to put you up for a few weeks. She has a charming housedown in Surrey--a place called Shapley Manor."

  "She might learn the truth and give me away," remarked Hugh dubiously.

  "She won't. Recollect, Hugh, that I was your father's friend, and amyours. What advice I give you is for your own good. You can't stayhere--it's impossible."

  The name of The Sparrow was upon Hugh's lips, and he was about totell Benton of that mysterious person's efforts on his behalf, but,on reflection, he saw that he had no right to expose The Sparrow'sexistence to others. The very house in which they were was one of thebolt-holes of the wonderfully organized gang of crooks which Il Passerocontrolled.

  "How did you know that I was here?" asked Hugh suddenly in curiosity.

  "That I'm not at liberty to say. It was not a friend of yours, butrather an enemy who told me--hence I tell you that you run the gravestrisk in remaining here a moment longer. As soon as I heard you werehere, I telephoned to Mrs. Bond, and she has very generously asked usboth to stay with her," Benton went on. "If you agree, I'll get a carnow, without delay, and we'll run down into Surrey together," he added.

  Hugh glanced at the tall, well-dressed man of whom his father hadthought so highly. Charles Benton, in spite of his hair tuning grey, wasa handsome man, and moved in a very good circle of society. Nobody knewhis source of income, and nobody cared. In these days clothes make thegentleman, and a knighthood a lady.

  Like many others, old Mr. Henfrey had been sadly deceived by CharlesBenton, and had taken him into his family as a friend. Other men haddone the same. His geniality, his handsome, open face, and his plausiblemanner, proved the open sesame to many doors of the wealthy, and thelatter were robbed in various ways, yet never dreaming that Benton wasthe instigator of it all. He never committed a theft himself. He gavethe information--and others did the dirty work.

  "You recollect Mrs. Bond," said Benton. "But I believe Maxwell, herfirst husband, was alive then, wasn't he?"

  "I have a faint recollection of meeting a Mrs. Maxwell in Paris--atlunch at the Pre Catalan--was it not?"

  "Yes, of course. About six years ago. That's quite right!" laughedBenton. "Well, Maxwell died and she married again--a Colonel Bond. Hewas killed in Mesopotamia, and now she's living up on the Hog's Back,beyond Guildford, on the road to Farnham."

  Hugh again reflected. He had come to Abingdon Road at the suggestion ofthe mysterious White Cavalier. Ought he to leave the place without firstconsulting him? Yet he had no knowledge of the whereabouts of the man ofmystery whom he firmly believed was none other than the elusive Sparrow.Besides, was not Benton, his father's closest friend, warning him of hisperil?

  The latter thought decided him.

  "I'm sure it's awfully good of Mrs. Bond whom I know so slightly toinvite me to stay with her."

  "Nothing, my dear boy. She's a very old friend of mine. I once did hera rather good turn when Maxwell was alive, and she's never forgottenit. She's one of the best women in the world, I assure you," Bentondeclared. "I'll run along to a garage I know in Knightsbridge and geta car to take us down to Shapley. It's right out in the country, and aslong as you keep clear of the town of Guildford--where the policeare unusually wary under one of the shrewdest chief constables inEngland--then you needn't have much fear. Pack up your traps, Hugh, andI'll call for you at the end of the road in half an hour."

  "Yes. But I'll want a dress suit and lots of other things if I'm goingto stay at a country house," the young man demurred.

  "Rot! You can get all you want in Aldershot, Farnham or Portsmouth. Comejust as you are. Mrs. Bond will make all allowances."

  "And probably have her suspicions aroused at the same time?"

  "No, she won't. This is a sudden trip into the country. I told her youhad been taken unwell--a nervous breakdown--and that the doctor hadordered you complete rest at once."

  "I wish I had stayed in Monte Carlo and faced the charge against me,"declared Hugh fervently. "Being hunted from pillar to post like this isso absolutely nerve-racking."

  "Why did you go to that woman's house, Hugh?" Benton asked. "Whatbusiness had you that led you to call at that hour upon such a notoriousperson?"

  Hugh remained silent. He saw that to tell Benton the truth would be toreopen the whole question of the will and of Louise.

  So he merely shrugged his shoulders.

  "Won't you tell me what really happened at the Villa Amette, Hugh?"asked the elder man persuasively. "I've seen Brock, but he apparentlyknows nothing."

  "Of course he does not. I was alone," was Hugh's answer. "The least saidabout that night of horror the better, Benton."

  So his father's friend left the house, while Hugh sought Mrs. Mason,settled his bill with her, packed his meagre wardrobe into a suit-case,and half an hour later entered the heavy old limousine which he found atthe end of the road.

  They took the main Portsmouth road, by way of Kingston, Cobham andRipley, until in the cold grey afternoon they descended the steep hillthrough Guildford High Street, and crossing the bridge, instead ofcontinuing along the road to Portsmouth, bore to the right, past thestation, and up the steep wide road over that long hill, the Hog's Back,whence a great misty panorama was spread out on either side of thelong, high-up ridge which in the sunshine gives such a wonderful view tomotorists on their way out of London southward.

  Presently the car turned into the gravelled drive, and Hugh foundhimself at Shapley.

  In the chintz-hung, old-world morning-room, lit by the last rays ofthe declining sun, for the sky had suddenly cleared, Mrs. Bond entered,loud-voiced and merry.

  "Why, Mr. Henfrey! I'm so awfully pleased to see you. Charles telephonedto me that you were a bit out of sorts. So you must stay with me fora little while--both of you. It's very healthy up here on the Surreyhills, and you'll soon be quite right again."

  "I'm sure, Mrs. Bond, it is most hospitable of you," Hugh said. "Londonin these after the war days is quite impossible. I always long for thecountry. Certainly your house is delightful," he added, looking round.

  "It's one of the nicest houses in the whole county of Surrey, my boy,"Benton declared enthusiastically. "Mrs. Bond was awfully lucky insecuring it. The family are unfortunately ruined, as so many others areby excessive taxation and high prices, and she just stepped in at thepsychological moment."

  "Well, I really don't know how to thank you sufficiently, Mrs. Bond,"Hugh declared. "It is really extremely good of you."

  "Remember, Mr. Henfrey, we are not strangers," exclaimed the handsomewoman. "Do you recollect when we met in Paris, and afterwards inBiarritz, and then that night at the Carlton?"

  "I reco
llect perfectly well. We met before the war, when one couldreally enjoy oneself contentedly."

  "Since then I have been travelling a great deal," said the woman. "I'vebeen in Italy, the South of Spain, the Azores, and over to the States. Igot back only a few months ago."

  And so after a chat Hugh was shown to his room, a pretty apartment, fromthe diamond-paned windows of which spread out a lovely view across toGodalming and Hindhead, with the South Downs in the blue far away.

  "Now you must make yourselves at home, both of you," the handsome womanurged as they came down into the drawing-room after a wash.

  Tea was served, and over it much chatter about people and places. Mrs.Bond was, like her friend Benton, a thorough-going cosmopolitan. Hughhad no idea of her real reputation, or of her remarkable adventures.Neither had he any idea that Molly Maxwell was wanted by the ParisSurete, just as he himself was wanted.

  "Isn't this a charming place?" remarked Benton as, an hour later, theystrolled on the long terrace smoking cigarettes before dinner. "Mrs.Bond was indeed fortunate in finding it."

  "Beautiful!" declared Hugh in genuine admiration. Since that memorablenight in Monte Carlo he had been living in frowsy surroundings,concealed in thieves' hiding-places, eating coarse food, and hearing theslang of the underworld of Europe.

  It had been exciting, yet he had been drawn into it against hiswill--just because he had feared for Dorise's sake, to face the musicafter that mysterious shot had been fired at the Villa Amette.

  Mrs. Bond was most courteous to her guests, and as Hugh and Bentonstrolled up and down the terrace in the fast growing darkness, the elderman remarked:

  "You'll be quite safe here, you know, Hugh. Don't worry. I'm truly sorrythat you have landed yourself into this hole, but--well, for the lifeof me I can't see what led you to seek out that woman, Yvonne Ferad. Whyever did you go there?"

  Hugh paused.

  "I--I had reasons--private reasons of my own," he replied.

  "That's vague enough. We all have private reasons for doing sillythings, and it seems that you did an exceptionally silly thing. I hearthat Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo, after the doctors operated upon herbrain, has now become a hopeless idiot."

  "So I've been told. It is all so very sad--so horrible. Though peoplehave denounced her as an adventuress, yet I know that at heart she is areal good woman."

  "Is she? How do you know?" asked Benton quickly, for instantly he was onthe alert.

  "I know. And that is all."

  "But tell me, Hugh--tell me in confidence, my boy--what led you to seekher that night. You must have followed her from the Casino and have seenher enter the Villa. Then you rang at the door and asked to see her?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Why?"

  "I had my own reasons."

  "Can't you tell them to me, Hugh?" asked the tall man in a strange, lowvoice. "Remember, I am an old friend of your father. And I am still yourbest friend."

  Hugh pursued his walk in silence.

  "No," he said at last, "I prefer not to discuss the affair. That nightis one full of painful memories."

  "Very well," answered Benton shortly. "If you don't want to tell me,Hugh, I quite understand. That's enough. Have another cigarette," and hehanded the young fellow his heavy gold case.

  A week passed. Hugh Henfrey and Charles Benton greatly enjoyed theirstay at Shapley Manor. With their hostess they motored almost dailyto many points of interest in the neighbourhood, never, by the way,descending into the town of Guildford, where the police were sounusually alert and shrewd.

  More than once when alone with Benton, Hugh felt impelled to refer tothe mysterious death of his father, but it was a very painful subject.The last time Hugh had referred to it, about a month before his visit toMonte Carlo, Benton had been greatly upset, and had begged the young mannot to mention the tragic affair.

  Constantly, however, Benton, on his part, would put cunning questions tohim concerning Yvonne Ferad, as to what he knew concerning her, and howhe had managed to escape over the frontier into Italy.

  Late one night as they sat together in the billiard-room after theirfinal game, Benton, removing the cigar from his lips, exclaimed:

  "Oh! I quite forgot to tell you, Mrs. Bond has been awfully good toLouise. She took her from Paris with her and they went quite a longtour, first to Spain and other places, and then to New York and back."

  "Has she?" exclaimed Hugh in surprise. Only once before had Bentonmentioned Louise's name, then he had casually remarked that she was on avisit to some friends in Yorkshire.

  "Yes. She's making her home with Mrs. Bond for the present. She returnshere to-morrow."

  As he said this, he watched the young man's face. It was sphinx-like.

  "Oh! That's jolly!" he replied, with well assumed satisfaction. "Itseems such an age since we last met--nearly a year before my father'sdeath, I believe."

  In his heart he had no great liking for the girl, although she wasbright, vivacious and extremely good company.

  Next afternoon the pair met in the hall after the car had brought herfrom Guildford station.

  "Hallo, Hugh!" she cried as she grasped his hand. "Uncle wrote andtold me you were here! How jolly, isn't it? Why--you seem to have grownolder," she laughed.

  "And you younger," he replied, bending over her hand gallantly. "I hearyou've been all over the world of late!"

  "Yes. Wasn't it awfully good of Mrs. Bond? I had a ripping time. Ienjoyed New York ever so much. I find this place a bit dull after Paristhough, so I'm often away with friends."

  And he followed her into the big morning-room where Mrs. Bond, aliasMolly Maxwell, was awaiting her.

  That afternoon there had been several callers; a retired admiral andhis wife, and two county magistrates with their womenfolk, for since herresidence at Shapley Mrs. Bond had been received in a good manysmart houses, especially by the _nouveau riche_ who abound in thatneighbourhood. But the callers had left and they were now alone.

  As Louise sat opposite the woman who had taken her under her charge,Hugh gazed at her furtively and saw that there was no comparison betweenher and the girl he loved so deeply.

  How strange it was, he thought. If he asked her to be his wife andthey married, he would at once become a wealthy man and inherit all hisfather's possessions. True, she was very sweet and possessed more thanthe ordinary _chic_ and good taste in dress. Yet he felt that he couldnever fulfil his dead father's curious desire.

  He could never marry her--_never_!