by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER X
ON A FRESH TRAIL
If Giles Ware had not been desperately in love and desperately anxiousto find Anne Denham, he would scarcely have gone to Paris on such awild-goose chase. The postmark on the letter showed that she was, or shehad been, in the French capital; but to find her in that immense citywas like looking for a haystack in a league-long desert. However, Warehad an idea--foolish enough--that some instinct would guide him to herside, and, therefore, as soon as he recovered sufficiently to travel hecrossed the Channel with Trim. He left Rickwell about three weeks afterhis interview with Morley. Time enough, as he well knew, for Anne tochange her place of residence. But he trusted to luck.
For quite a fortnight he explored the city, accompanied by the faithfulold servant. Trim had sharp eyes, and would be certain to recognize Anneif she came within eyesight. But in spite of their vigilance andobservation, the two saw no one even distantly resembling Anne.Certainly if Giles had gone to the authorities, who take note of all whocome and go, he might have been more successful. But knowing that Annewas wanted by the English police, he did not dare to adopt this method.He was forced to rely entirely on himself, and his search resulted innothing.
"It ain't no good, Master Giles," said Trim for at least the tenth time;"we've lost the scent somehow. Better go back to London. I don't wantyou to be ill over here, sir, with nothing but foreign doctors to lookafter you."
"I shan't leave Paris until I am certain that she is not in the place,"declared Ware resolutely.
"Well, sir, I don't know how much more certain you wants to be. We'vetramped them bullyvardes and Chamy Elizas till our feet are neardropping off. You're looking a shadow, Master Giles, if you'll excuse anold man as nursed you when you were a baby. She ain't here. Now Ishouldn't be surprised if she were in London," said Trim wisely.
"What, in the very jaws of the lion? Nonsense!"
"Oh, but is it, sir? I always heard it said by them as knows that thejaws of the lion is the very last place any one expects to find them."Trim did not state what "them" he meant. "If she went back to Rickwellshe would be safe, especially if she laid up in some cottage and calledherself a widder."
"Trim, you've been reading detective novels!"
"Not me, sir; I ain't got no time. But about this going back----"
"We'll go back to-morrow, Trim," said Ware, with sudden resolution. AndTrim joyfully departed to pack.
It just struck Giles that after all Trim might be right, and that havingthrown the police off the scent by going abroad in the yacht, Anne mightreturn to London. She might be there now, living in some quiet suburb,while the police were wasting their time corresponding with the Frenchauthorities. Moreover, Ware thought it would be just as well to learnwhat Steel was doing. He had charge of the case and might have struckthe trail. In that case Giles wanted to know, for he could then avertany possible danger from Anne. And finally he reflected that he mightlearn something about Anne's friends from the people at the Governesses'Institute where Mrs. Morley had engaged her. If she returned to Londonit was not impossible that she might have gone to hide in the house ofsome friend. Any one who knew Anne could be certain that she was notguilty of the crime she was accused of, and would assuredly aid her toescape the unjust law. So thought Giles in his ardor; but he quiteforgot that every one was not in love with Anne, and would scarcely helpher unless they were fully convinced of her innocence, and perhaps noteven then. Most people have a holy horror of the law, and are notanxious to help those in danger of the long arm of justice.
However, Giles reasoned as above and forthwith left Paris for London. Hetook up his quarters in the Guelph Hotel, opposite the Park, and beganhis search for Anne again. Luckily he had obtained from Mrs. Morley thenumber of the Institute, which was in South Kensington, and the dayafter his arrival walked there to make inquiries. It was a very forlornhope, but Ware saw no other chance of achieving his desire.
The Institute was a tall red-brick house, with green blinds and a prim,tidy look. He was shown into a prim parlor and interviewed by a prim oldlady, who wore spectacles and had a pencil stuffed in the bosom of herblack gown. However, she was less prim than she looked, and had acheerful old ruddy face with a twinkling pair of kindly eyes. In herheart Mrs. Cairns admired this handsome young man who spoke so politely,and was more willing to afford him the desired information than if hehad been elderly and ugly. Old as she was, the good lady was a truedaughter of Eve, and her natural liking for the opposite sex had notbeen crushed out of her by years of education. Nevertheless when sheheard the name of Anne she threw up her hands in dismay.
"Why do you come here to ask about that unfortunate girl?" she demanded,and looked severely at Giles. Before he could reply she glanced again athis card, which she held in her fingers, and started. "Giles Ware," sheread, drawing a quick breath. "Are you----"
"I was engaged to the young lady who was killed," said Ware, surprised.
Mrs. Cairns' rosy face became a deep red. "And you doubtless wish toavenge her death by finding Miss Denham?"
"On the contrary, I wish to save Miss Denham."
"What! do you not believe her guilty?"
"No, Mrs. Cairns, I do not. Every one says she killed the girl, but I amcertain that she is an innocent woman. I come to ask you if you can tellme where she is."
"Why do you come to me?" Mrs. Cairns went to see that the door wasclosed before she asked this question.
"I thought you might know of her whereabouts."
"Why should I?"
"Well, I admit that there is no reason why you should--at least, Ithought so before I came here."
"And now?" She bent forward eagerly.
"Now I think that if she had come to you for refuge she would get helpfrom you. I can see that you also believe her guiltless."
"I do," said Mrs. Cairns in a low voice. "I have known Anne for yearsand I am certain that she is not the woman to do a thing like this. Shewould not harm a fly."
"Then you can help me. You know where she is?"
Mrs. Cairns looked at his flushed face, at the light in his eyes. Inher shrewd way she guessed the secret of this eagerness. "Then you loveher," she said under her breath. "You love Anne."
"Why do you say that?" asked Giles, taken aback. He was not prepared tofind that she could read him so easily.
"I remember," said Mrs. Cairns to herself, but loud enough for him tohear, "there was a Society paper said something about jealousy being themotive of the crime, and----"
"Do you mean to say that such a statement was in the papers?" asked Wareangrily, and with a flash of his blue eyes.
"It was in none of the big daily papers, Mr. Ware. They offered noexplanation. But some Society reporter went down to Rickwell; to gatherscandal from the servants, I suppose."
"Off from Mrs. Parry," muttered Giles; then aloud, "Yes?"
"Well, this man or woman--most probably it was a woman--made up a verypretty tale, which was printed in _The Firefly_."
"A scandalous paper," said Ware, annoyed. "What did it say?"
"That you were in love with Anne, that you were engaged to Miss Kent,and that to gain you as her husband Anne killed the girl."
"It's a foul lie. I'll horsewhip the editor and make him put in anapology."
"I shouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Ware," said the old lady dryly."Better let sleeping dogs lie. I don't believe the whole storymyself--only part of it."
"What part, Mrs. Cairns?"
"That part which says you love Anne. I can see it in your face."
"If I can trust you----"
"Certainly you can. Anne is like my own child. I believe her guiltlessof this terrible crime, and I would do anything to see her righted. Shedid not kill the girl."
"No, I believe the girl was killed by a nameless man who came toRickwell from some firm of solicitors. I don't know why he murdered thepoor child, no more than I can understand why Anne should have helpedhim to escape."
"You call her Anne," said Mrs. Cairns so
ftly.
Giles flushed through the tan of his strong face.
"I have no right to do so," he said. "She never gave me permission. Mrs.Cairns, I assure you that there was no understanding between Miss Denhamand myself. I was engaged by my father to Miss Kent, and we were to bemarried. I fell in love with Miss Denham, and I have reason to believethat she returned my love."
"She told you so?"
"No, no! She and I never said words like that to one another. We werefriends; nothing more. Miss Kent chose to be jealous of a trifling giftI gave Miss Denham at Christmas, and there was trouble. Then came ananonymous letter, saying that Anne wished to kill Daisy."
"A letter, and said that?" exclaimed Mrs. Cairns in surprise. "But Ican't understand it at all. Anne had no enemies, so far as I know. Noone could hate so sweet a girl. Her father----"
"Did you know her father?" asked Ware quickly.
"No; but she often spoke of him. She was fond of her father, although heseems to have been a wandering Bohemian. He died at Florence."
"I wonder if he really did die."
"Of course. He--but it's a long story, Mr. Ware, and I have not thetime to tell it to you. Besides, there is one who can tell you all aboutAnne and her father much better than I can. The Princess Karacsay. Doyou know her?"
"I have seen the name somewhere."
"Probably on a programme," said Mrs. Cairns composedly. "Oh, don't lookso astonished. The Princess is really a Hungarian aristocrat. Shequarrelled with her people, and came to England with very little money.To keep herself alive she tried to become a governess. Afterwards,having a beautiful voice, she became a concert singer. I hear she isvery popular."
"How should she know about Anne--I mean Miss Denham?"
"Because if there is any woman to whom Anne would go in her distress, itwould be the Princess. She met Anne here while she was a governess, andthe two became great friends. They were always together. I do not knowwhere Anne is, Mr. Ware. She did not come to me, nor has she written;but if she is in England the Princess will know."
"Do you think she would tell me?" asked Giles eagerly.
"I really don't know. She is romantic, and if she learned that you lovedAnne she might be inclined to help you. But that would depend upon Anneherself. How is she disposed towards you?"
For answer Giles related the episode of the foreign letter, with thedrawing of the coin and the one word "Innocent." Mrs. Cairns listenedquietly, and nodded.
"Evidently Anne values your good opinion. I think you had better tellall this to the Princess." She hastily wrote a few lines. "This is heraddress."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you!"
"And, Mr. Ware," added the old lady, laying a kind hand on his arm, "ifyou hear about Anne, come and tell me. I hope with all my soul that youwill be able to save the poor child."
"If human aid can prove her innocence, you can depend upon me," wasWare's reply. And taking leave of Mrs. Cairns, he left the Institutewith his heart beating and his head in the air.
Giles was glad that his good fortune had led him to meet this truefriend of the woman he loved. He was also glad that he had been so openwith her about his passion, else she might not have sent him to thePrincess Karacsay. As the name came into his mind he glanced down at thepaper, which he still held. The address of Anne's friend was "42,Gilbert Mansions, Westminster." Giles resolved to lose no time inlooking her up. She would be able to tell him where Anne was, and alsomight be able to explain the mystery of Anne's life in general, and herconduct at Rickwell in particular.
For there was some mystery about Miss Denham. Ware was quite certain onthat point. She had said that her father was dead, and circumstancespointed to the fact that her father was alive and was the nameless manwho had appeared and disappeared so suddenly. Then there was the strangeepisode of the anonymous letter, and the queer reference therein to theScarlet Cross. Also the fact that the yacht in which Anne had fled wascalled _The Red Cross_. All these things hinted at a mystery, and suchmight in some indirect way be connected with the death of Daisy Kent.Anne had not killed her; but since she had aided the murderer to escapeshe must have condoned the crime in some way. Ware shuddered as helooked at the matter in this light. What if Anne knew something aboutthe matter after all? The next moment he put the thought from him withanger. Anne was good and pure, and her hands were clean from the stainof blood. Such a woman would not--could not commit a crime eitherdirectly or indirectly. When he saw her he would ask for an explanation,and once she opened her mouth all would be made plain.
Arguing thus with himself, Giles wrote a letter to the Princess Karacsayand asked for an interview. He mentioned that he had seen Mrs. Cairnsand that the old lady had furnished him with the address. Also, he saidthat his wish in seeing the Princess was to ask for the whereabouts ofMiss Denham. Having despatched this note, Giles felt that he could do nomore until he received a reply.
But he was too restless to remain quiet. It occurred to him that hemight look up Steel and learn what fresh discoveries had been made inconnection with the Rickwell crime. He went to New Scotland Yard andasked for the detective, but learned to his surprise and vexation thatthe man was out of town and was not expected back for a week. No onecould say where he had gone, so Giles had to satisfy himself withleaving a card and promising to call again.
The next day he received a note from the Princess Karacsay asking him tocome the next evening at nine o'clock. She said nothing about Anne, nordid she volunteer any information. She simply appointed an hour and aplace for the interview and signed herself Olga Karacsay. Giles feltthat she had been intentionally curt, and wondered if she intended togive him a civil reception. After some thought he decided that she meantto be kind, although the note read so coldly. He would go, and perhapsduring the interview she might be persuaded to help him. After all, shemust know that he had been engaged to marry the dead girl, andfancied--as Mrs. Cairns had done--that he wished to have Anne arrested.
The following evening he arrayed himself with particular care and drovein a hansom to Westminster. The cab stopped before a great pile of brickbuildings near the Abbey, and when Giles had dismissed it he entered alarge and well-lighted hall with a tesselated pavement. Here a portervolunteered, on ascertaining his business, to conduct him to the door ofthe Princess Karacsay's flat, which was on the first floor.
Giles was admitted by a neat maid-servant, who showed him into apicturesque drawing-room. A tall woman in evening dress was standingbeside the window in the twilight. Giles thought her figure was familiarand recognized the turn of her head. He uttered a cry.
"Anne," he said, stretching his arms. "Anne, my dearest!"
