The Motor Pirate

by G. Sidney Paternoster

  CHAPTER XXIII

  SAVED

  MY brain reeled as we rushed along the road into Penzance. My foreheadseemed to be encircled with a band of steel. My mouth was so parchedthat my tongue rattled against my palate as I tried to speak to Forrest.My fingers were so cramped with the grip on the steering wheel, a gripwhich had never once been relaxed during our five hours' run, that Icould not relinquish my hold. The road became dark, and involuntarily Icut off the supply of the gas to the motor and brought the car to astandstill.

  "Go on, man! Go on!" shouted Forrest in my ear.

  I could only gasp for answer. I felt suddenly sick.

  Then Forrest gave proof of his ready common sense. He thrust his handinto his pocket and produced the bottle of champagne which had been leftover from our lunch, and which he had thoughtfully brought with him inview of some such eventuality as this. Tearing off the wire he cut thestring. The cork flew out and the liquor creamed from the neck of thebottle. Pushing up my mask with one hand he held the bottle to my lipswith the other.

  I spluttered. I choked. But I drank and I drank again. Never surely waschampagne more grateful or more useful. My strength returned to meinstantaneously. My brain cleared. My eyes saw. My hope returned. I drewa deep sigh of relief. Forrest handed me the bottle again.

  "After you," I said.

  He took a drink and then remarked authoritatively, "Finish the bottle."

  I obeyed and, draining it, tossed it into the hedge and once more setthe car in motion. If our progress had been speedy before, when we wereonce through Penzance, it became absolutely reckless.

  My brain was dancing from the effect of the champagne, and a wildexhilaration throbbed in every artery. The pace was tremendous, and wehad not left Penzance a couple of miles behind us before the fugitivescame once more into view. Now for the first time I could see that wewere holding our own in the race. It may have been that some bearing hadbecome heated in the car Mannering was driving, for undoubtedly his newcar was more speedy than the old, but it was clear that he could nolonger leave us as he had been able to do in the earlier part of thechase. If only I could increase ever so slightly the speed of my car, Ifelt confident of overtaking him. I motioned to Forrest to bend towardsme, and when his ear was level with my mouth, I asked him to throweverything which could be got rid of overboard, in order to lighten thecar. He took my meaning at once, and away went the cushions and rugs.The difference was slight, but still there was a perceptible difference.At the pace we were now travelling the car rocked from side to side ofthe road, and Forrest had to brace himself stiffly against thefoot-board to prevent himself being thrown out. But we were gaining footby foot on the fugitives. I felt a thrill of delight when, on reachingthe brow of a hill, I saw the white car only two hundred yards ahead,and reckoned that in a couple of minutes we should have overtaken them.

  But one thing I had overlooked. I became conscious that we should soonbe at the end of our journey, for suddenly I saw the sea on the horizon.I knew now where we were, knew that the end was in sight. For Manneringthere could be no return, and I shouted aloud with exultation when Irealized it. We drew closer to him, so close that I fancied I could seehis eyes glittering through the mica plate of his mask as he turned tolook at us.

  A sudden horror gripped me by the throat. He surely must know as well asmyself that he was near the spot where all roads ended; that we werebarely a mile or two from Land's End. What if he intended to end hislife and his journey together? And what if, not content with destroyinghimself, he were to carry with him to destruction the girl who rodebeside him on his car?

  We reached within twenty yards of him, and then as if in answer to mythought, I heard him emit a screech of laughter as his car suddenly shotaway from us, and in half a minute placed him at least a quarter of amile ahead. The bitterness of that moment, as my hope died within me, Ican never forget. I only continued the pursuit mechanically.

  We thundered through Sennen without pause and so onward until we openedup the hotel and the stretch of green on the brow of the cliff. Then Icould have shrieked with delight. The white car was standing still andMannering had left his seat and was standing by the side. Ten secondswould have brought us to him. Five passed. He leaped again to his seat,and as he did so, the white robed figure sprang from the car to theturf. The Pirate gave a cry of baffled rage. But he had no time to wastein recovering his escaping victim, for we were within fifty yards ofhim. His car leaped forward and, leaving the road, tossed like a boat atsea over the uneven boulder-strewn turf. We were within five yards ofhim, and it was as much as we could manage to do to keep our seats.

  Just in time I realized the danger into which we were being unwittinglydrawn, and reversing the gear, I put on both breaks. I was in time, butonly just in time, for we were on a treacherous grassy slope and inspite of the breaks our car continued to glide forward under the impulseof the velocity it had attained.

  "Jump for your life!" shouted Forrest.

  I had wit enough to obey without hesitation.

  As I leaped, my eyes were fixed upon Mannering who at that moment hadreached the very edge of the cliff. I saw him disappear, and then Irolled over on the turf. I was unhurt, and gathering myself together, Iregained my feet just as the car which had carried us so well followedthe maker over the cliff. A dozen paces took me to the spot. I shudderedas I glanced downwards and saw the fate I had escaped. Two or threehundred feet below the tide was boiling over the jagged rocks. I fanciedI could discern a few fragments of the white car and that was all.

  Not ten seconds before I had seen Mannering wave his hand at usmockingly as he rode to his death, and I guessed that his intention hadbeen to lure us on to a common destruction. Once again he haddisappeared, but now I knew it was for all time.

  A strange calm came upon me. Straight in front of us the Longshipslighthouse made a pillar of black marble against the huge red disc ofthe setting sun. In the far distance the Cassiterides floated cloud-likeon the horizon. I gulped down a sob of thankfulness, for the memory cameupon me that the one whom I loved had been saved by the merest chancefrom sharing the fate of the madman who had so unhesitatingly rushedupon his doom.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Forrest.

  "Our work is done," he said, and with an impatient sigh, he took fromhis pocket the useless handcuffs and hurled them after the cars. "Onething we have to be thankful for," he continued, "thank God, MissMaitland is safe."

  For reply, I could only grasp his hands and wring them silently. As Idid so, I became conscious that a number of excited people had gatheredabout us.

  "Where--where is she?" I gasped.

  Some one pointed to the hotel a hundred yards or so distant, and Forrestand I hurried towards it. I was a prey to the most horrible anxiety. Idreaded to contemplate what the result upon the mind of my darling mightbe. I had nearly reached the hotel door, when I saw a slight figure stepacross the threshold and shade her eyes with her hand. With a cry ofdelight I sprang forward.

  The next moment Evie was in my arms.

  * * * * *

  That is the story of the Motor Pirate. There remain but a few things tosay. And first of them, let me explain how it happened that Evie managedto fall into the Pirate's clutches.

  I told her later that it was owing to feminine curiosity. She, on theother hand, declares it was entirely owing to her anxiety on my account.Whichever was the reason, the moment she had heard Mannering's carapproach, she had gone to the garden-gate, whence she was able tocommand a view of the coach-house door. She had seen the man Laver rushforward at the sound of the whistle. Then the pistol shot rang out, andthe next moment Mannering had appeared on the new car. He had seen her,and she had attempted to fly to the house, but he had overtaken her andcarried her off. Once on the car he had proceeded a short distance onthe St. Alban's road, and then stopped to speak to her, for the firstand only time on that day.

  "I am going to take you for a ride with me, Miss Maitland," he hado
bserved. "I merely wish to warn you before we start, that at the pacewe shall travel, you will find any attempt to escape exceedinglydangerous."

  It was then from his manner and appearance she had realized that she wasin the power of a madman.

  As regards the ride, she could tell me very little. The pace was sogreat that, being unprovided with a mask, she was obliged to crouch downon the seat and cover her face with a rug as a protection against thedust. It seemed an interminable time, she said, and the moment the carstopped she made an attempt to regain her liberty, without knowing hownear she was to destruction at the time she made it.

  Fortunately the strain had been much less than I expected, so far asEvie was concerned, and much more than I anticipated, was its effectupon myself. It was a long time before I completely recovered from theeffects of those three adventurous days. And the worst of it was, thateverything combined to prevent me obtaining the absolute quiet which Ineeded. After spending a night at the hotel I, of course, hastened totake train to London in order to restore Evie to her father. But when Iarrived at my place at St. Albans, I found a veritable army of pressmenencamped on my doorstep. They would not give me a moment's peace. I wascompelled to remain in bed, and upon sending a message over to Evie toinform her of my predicament, she informed me that she was similarlybesieged.

  We exchanged a dozen notes. I rose when it was dark, and slipped out ofmy back door. I could only see one method of securing quiet. Even ahardened pressman has a dislike to intrude upon the privacy of a newlymarried couple, so the next morning Evie and Colonel Maitland joined mein town, and we were married by special license and, without returningto St. Albans, we started for my home in Norfolk.

  So much for myself.

  Forrest was for a long time inconsolable at the final escape of thePirate from the hands of justice. So was his subordinate, Laver, whosesentiments on the subject are quite too lurid for publication.

  As for Mannering, no trace of his body was ever found, though I havesince heard that certain portions of the cars have been fished up fromthe pools amongst the rocks at the base of the cliffs at low tide. Atpresent, however, there has not been sufficient of the machineryrecovered to enable any one to construct a similar motor. He hadapparently made no drawings, or else had destroyed them when they hadserved his turn, so it would seem as if the secret of the singularlyspeedy motor he invented is destined to be lost to the world. Still, itmay be that sufficient will be recovered to give some skilledmechanician sufficient guidance to enable him to reproduce the lostpirate car. If not, well, I don't suppose it matters. Some one else willbe sure to invent something similar. In fact, from the hints Manneringgave me, and owing to the opportunity I had of examining the car in hisworkshop, I think it is not unlikely that I shall shortly be applyingfor letters patent myself.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  REVELATIONS

  THERE remains only one thing more. I feel that the story would beincomplete if I kept to myself certain particulars concerning Mannering,which have come to my knowledge since the day when he made hissensational flight into eternity from the brow of the cliff at Land'sEnd. At the time, both my wife and myself wished never to hear again thename of the man whose actions had provided us with such terrible andnerve-shattering experiences, but afterwards, when we came to think overthe matter, it occurred to both of us that in fact we knew very littleabout the man who had nearly wrecked our lives. To dwell upon thatthought naturally awakened our curiosity concerning his past life, and,needless to say, when the opportunity occurred for gratifying ourcuriosity, we did not for a moment hesitate about accepting it. It istrue that we had gathered from his conversation that he had travelledwidely, but in what capacity, or with what object, we knew as little aswe knew of his birthplace or parentage. We found, too, a difficulty inunderstanding the motives which had prompted Mannering's actions, and,though we often discussed the question, we could never of ourselveshave arrived at a satisfactory solution of the problem.

  On this latter point I must mention the conclusion arrived at by _TheSpeaker_. This sober-minded and extremely British review declared thathis animating motive was "the strong rock of equity, or abstractjustice," inasmuch as, by principally directing his attention tomotorists, he was avenging _The Speaker's_ quarrel with a class whichthis journal held in particular abhorrence. Naturally, both Evie andmyself smiled at the thought that the Motor Pirate was a conservativegentleman, anxious only to restore to the highways of England somethingof their pristine calm. For myself, I inclined to the belief that he wasa remarkable specimen of the megalomaniac, whose exploits were promptedmuch more by the desire for notoriety than by any altruistic motive, oreven by any sordid consideration regarding the plunder which he secured.Certainly had he been a mere criminal, impelled by the desire for theeasy acquisition of wealth, he could have pursued his career for a muchlonger period than he actually did. As for my wife, with a woman'snatural tendency to read a romance into any and every development ofhuman activity, she held fast to the opinion that the Pirate'sextraordinary career was the outcome of an overmastering passion forherself. The probability is, that in his brain all these motivesoperated at different times. The natural love of plunder, inherent inthe criminal mind, is as often as not accompanied by a morbid delight inawakening the wonder of the public by the performance of startlingdeeds and, in the same temperament, it is not unusual to discover theromantic nature developed to a considerable degree. But, from the dataat our command, I fancy it would have been impossible even for theexperienced psychologist to decide which, so to speak, was the masterimpulse.

  Perhaps, however, the few facts concerning him, which came into ourpossession afterwards, tend to clear up these points to some degree.Certainly they left me with a clearer light upon his individuality.

  To these facts I am indebted to Inspector Forrest, who, some six monthsafter our famous ride together in pursuit of the pirate, managed to findtime to pay a flying visit to our Norfolk home, where we had continuedto dwell in peaceful seclusion.

  It was at dinner, on the night of his arrival, that Forrest first hintedthat he had picked up some details of Mannering's life-history, and ofcourse nothing would content Evie but a promise that we should hear whathe had discovered. So, directly the meal was finished, we adjourned forour coffee and cigars to my sanctum, where, in front of a comfortablefire, Forrest made no difficulty about satisfying our curiosity.

  "You see," he began, when his cigar was once well alight, "I was everybit as curious as Mrs. Sutgrove."

  "Or myself," I interrupted.

  "Or Mr. Sutgrove," said the detective, smiling, "for there is preciouslittle difference between the sexes so far as curiosity is concerned, inspite of the generally accepted opinion on the matter. But beingcurious, I naturally made the most minute search when I searched hisplace at St. Alban's. I didn't find much there, it is true, but I didsecure a clue which ultimately led me to some lodgings which he hadoccupied some three or four years previously, and there, by the merestgood luck, I discovered that when he had departed he had left behind hima worn-out travelling-bag, and in that bag was a bundle of papers whichsupplied me with sufficient information to reconstruct his history tosome extent, though I should not like to swear to the absolute accuracyof every detail of his biography as I see it."

  "Was there nothing at all found at St. Alban's then?" asked Evie.

  "I fancy you must have seen in the papers a pretty full account of allthat the police discovered there?" said the detective.

  "Yes," replied Evie. "We read a lot of stories, but they varied to suchan extent that we really did not know what to believe."

  Forrest smiled. "Now I come to think of it, the reporters did give theirimaginations free reins, but you can take it from me that, with theexception of the plunder he amassed after his return from thatContinental trip, and the apparatus for the production of the liquidhydrogen, there was very little in his house of interest to me or you.There was his bank-book, and some correspondence with a learnedprofessor at the
Royal Institution. I followed up both clues. At the R.I. I discovered nothing. Mannering had merely posed as a wealthyamateur in chemistry, and of course he met with every assistance when hehad asked for help in following up his researches into the behaviour ofliquid gases. At his bank also, very little was known about him. When hehad come to St. Alban's he had opened an account by a payment into it ofsix or seven thousand pounds in Bank of England notes. He had drawnsteadily upon the account until it was nearly exhausted, and, in pointof fact, there was only a few pounds to his credit from the time when hecommenced his career on the road, until a week or two after his returnfrom Amsterdam, when he paid in two thousand pounds in gold, and afortnight later swelled his balance with a similar amount."

  "That was the proceeds of the Brighton mail robbery," I remarked.

  Forrest nodded. "That was his only really big coup. As for his otherplunder, he probably disposed of the proceeds of all his early cruiseson the Continent, at the same time that he sold the diamonds. That whichhe obtained afterwards was found intact in the safe in his bedroom.Heavens! What an opportunity I missed by not taking out a search-warrantfor his house. When we paid our midnight visit, there must have beenample evidence behind the steel door to have convicted him."

  The detective was silent for awhile, and bit savagely at his cigar.

  "He was not a wealthy man, then," I remarked.

  "No," replied Forrest. "There was no trace of his owning any propertyanywhere, and his expenditure on the gas plant and on his motors--wefound that the various parts had been made to specification at a varietyof works in England and abroad--had eaten heavily into his capital, sothat at the time of the commencement of his career he must have beenvery nearly penniless. Whether he built the motor with the idea ofutilizing it for the purpose he ultimately put it to, of course I cannotsay, but I have a shrewd suspicion that he really did design it for thepurpose, since from what I have learned of him the predatory instinctmust have been pretty strongly developed in him."

  The detective paused for a minute, and, flicking the ash off his cigar,gazed meditatively into the fire.

  "You shall judge for yourselves," he continued. "Unfortunately, I cannotbegin right at the beginning, for I do not know where he was born, norwho his parents were. I can only guess at these facts from the knowledgethat, as a boy, he was at school in the south of England, and that thenhis name was Ram Krishna Roy."

  "What?" I asked, in amazement. "A Hindu?"

  "An Eurasian, I should fancy," replied Forrest. "He had been sent toschool in England by one of those petty Indian princes, who stillexercise sovereignty under British suzerainty."

  "How did you discover that?" asked Evie.

  "It was like this, Mrs. Sutgrove," replied Forrest. "Amongst the papersI spoke about as being in the old portmanteau, were a number of letterswritten in characters I could not understand. I could see they wereoriental, and that was as much as I could make of them, so I took themto a noted oriental scholar who translated them for me. The language wasUrdu, and the writer was a munshi, who was obviously communicating withan old pupil. There were so many references to scenes with which theperson to whom the letters were addressed, as well as the writer, wasfamiliar, that it was quite clear that the former must have been broughtup amidst purely native surroundings. There were one or two more obscureallusions which led me to conclude that the boy's mother must have beena white woman, and from what we saw of him there can be no doubt butthat he was white on one side."

  "Nobody would have taken him to be aught but an Englishman," murmuredEvie.

  "No," said Forrest. "I was intensely surprised when I discovered theseproofs of his identity and at first I thought they could not apply tohim, but before I come to the connecting link, let me mention onecurious thing in the letters, which may do something to explain thecurious influence which Mannering exerted over Mrs. Sutgrove."

  "He hypnotized me, I am sure," declared Evie, decidedly.

  "Very possibly," replied the detective. "In nearly every letter was tobe found an admonition to the effect--I cannot give you a verbatimtranslation--that the writer hoped his old pupil would not forget thatto him was entrusted the secret power of Siva, which would, bypractice, enable him to mould all men to his will."

  "If he had possessed that," I interrupted, "there would have been nonecessity for him to have practised piracy on the high-road."

  "True," said Forrest. "But it is quite possible that Mrs. Sutgrove'sconjecture is correct, and that even at that early age Mannering hadlearnt something about hypnotism from his native instructor, for I amvery certain that of these semi-occult sciences, the East has much moreprecise knowledge than is realized by the Western world."

  "Very likely," said my wife, shuddering slightly at the remembrance. "Hecertainly had a most singular power over me."

  "He probably increased his knowledge when he returned to his nativeland, which, I gathered, must have taken place when he was aboutseventeen. Then there is a break for nearly ten years in his history."

  "I don't quite see how you connect Ram Krishna Roy with Mannering," Iinterpolated.

  "I'm coming to that," replied Forrest. "With these letters was anotherin its original envelope addressed in the same hand to Julian Manneringat San Francisco. It was the most interesting letter of the lot. It wasfull of reproaches addressed to the dear pupil, who had cut himself offfrom the asceticism of the East, and devoted himself to the grossmaterialism of Western civilization. It concluded by the expression ofan intention to once more attempt to persuade him to return by apersonal appeal. On the back of the letter was a note in Mannering'shandwriting. 'Old Chatterji kept his promise. I had quite a longconversation with him in the ballroom last night. Everybody thought Iwas drunk or mad to be talking Hindustani, apparently to empty air.However, that's the last of him. I've done with the East.'".

  "You make him more a man of mystery than ever," I exclaimed.

  "I can't help it," said Forrest. "Perhaps his old tutor really didappear to him. Perhaps Mannering was mad. Who knows? Both are dead.However, he seems to have carried out his intention of not returning toIndia. Ram Krishna Roy disappeared from that time forth, and JulianMannering took his place. He seems to have been doing nothing at SanFrancisco at the time, but a little later he appears to have accepted anappointment as engineer to a mine in Arizona. He left the berth suddenlya few months later, owing to some trouble about the wife of one of theminers. The miner was shot, and his comrades were so incensed thatMannering had to depart hot-foot. Then for awhile I can only guess athis occupation from some newspaper cuttings which he had preserved.These point to his identification with the leader of a gang ofdesperadoes whose most notable exploit was the successful holding up ofa train which had a considerable quantity of specie on board."

  "I remember him describing the affair," said Evie, "though herepresented himself as on the side of the attacked."

  "The only assistance he gave to the plundered was to assist them to abetter land by the aid of his gun. He escaped, though, and made his wayto Australia, and once again he resumed the practice of hisprofession,--mining engineering. For three or four years he was engagedat a newly-opened mine in the northern territory of West Australia. Butinstinct was too strong for him. He must really have had a strong dashof the blood of some of those Indian hill-tribe freebooters in hisveins, for he never seems to have been able to resist the prospect ofplunder, and the likelihood of having to fight for it seems to have beenan additional inducement. Thus, at the mine, under his charge, it wasthe custom to send, periodically, the gold extracted, under a strongescort, to the nearest town, some forty miles distant. For a long timethese consignments were delivered with perfect safety. Then, after aparticularly rich vein had been struck, it became necessary to forward avery large consignment of bullion. Contrary to the usual practice, onlytwo men were sent in charge of it. Their dead bodies were afterwardsdiscovered, and the gold was never recovered. No one seems to have hadthe least suspicion that the gentlemanly engineer at the m
ine was likelyto have had something to do with the business, and when, shortlyafterward, he resigned his post and took a passage to Europe, hereceived the highest possible testimonials from his manager anddirectors. I have no doubt, myself, that he was the prime mover in therobbery, for his salary was a small one, and directly afterwards hespent six months in Paris, where his expenditure would have been lavishfor a millionaire."

  "That was where my father met him," remarked Evie. "I remember himexpressing surprise at the simplicity of Mannering's life at St. Alban'sin view of the luxury with which he had been surrounded when they hadmet previously."

  "Just so," said the detective. "But his Paris career ended as it hadcommenced. He disappeared suddenly, without a word of farewell to any ofhis acquaintance, and had it not been for one bit of evidence, I shouldhave had not the slightest idea as to what he had been doing withhimself in the interval between that time and his arrival at St.Alban's. You may remember that a scientific expedition was despatched bythe Dutch government about six years ago to make some investigations inthe interior of New Guinea?"

  I shook my head.

  "It started six months after Mannering disappeared from Paris, and fromthe time it left Batavia _en route_ for New Guinea not a word has everbeen heard of it."

  "You cannot mean to infer that Mannering had anything to do with that?"I asked, incredulously.

  "I infer nothing," replied Forrest. "But I do know that a pocketbook,which had belonged to a chemist attached to the exploring party, was oneof the documents I found in his bag. The book contained a number ofnotes upon the liquefaction of gases, and these may very likely havefirst interested Mannering in the subject. As I have since discoveredfrom a search of the registers at Lloyds that there were quite a numberof ships lost about the same time in those seas, I cannot help thinkingthat our friend had served an apprenticeship under the black flag at seabefore taking to land piracy."

  "At that rate he must have been the greatest criminal on earth," Ideclared.

  "He was certainly the biggest I ever came across," replied Forrest, "andmy only regret is that I was unable to secure him in order that he mighthave judicially paid the penalty for his crimes."

  "It was a pity," I said, "though I fancy if we had trapped him he wouldhave found some means of cheating the gallows and making a melodramaticexit from the world."

  "It is more than likely," said Forrest. "He was not the ordinary type ofcriminal. I was speaking to a big mental specialist the other day,and--but I had better complete the story of his career first. Where didwe leave him?"

  "New Guinea," I prompted.

  "The only other reason I have for suspecting him of being engaged indeeds of violence in that quarter of the globe is that he returned toEngland _via_ Singapore, with a considerable quantity of bullion in hispossession. The rest of his history you know."

  "He seems to have had a stirring existence, anyhow," I commented. "Andone hardly sees any reason for it save natural sin."

  "The alienist I was talking to the other day described him as a moralpervert. He said he was a type of insanity usually associated withphysical incapacity or a low order of intelligence, but when, as inMannering's case, both physique and intelligence were above the average,the moral pervert is a greater danger to the community than an army ofordinary criminals. If ever I said a prayer it would be when a madman ofthat type was removed from the world."

  "Amen," said both Evie and I, heartily.

  THE END.

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Note:

  Text uses both St. Alban's and St. Albans.

  Page 24, "has" changed to "had" (papers had not)

  Page 76, "continue" changed to "continued" (he continued earnestly)

  Page 86, "sang-freid" changed to "sang-froid" (companion's _sang-froid_soon)

  Page 88, "typeing" changed to "typing" (typing, and upon)

  Page 139, "choose" changed to "chose" (We chose the footpath)

  Page 189, closing quote added (address." Then, after)

  Page 242, "couples" changed to "couple" (a couple of minutes)