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FRIDAY TO MONDAY





FRIDAY TO MONDAY
BY
WILLIAM GARRETT

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK :: :: MCMXXIV


COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
PROYTID DY THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


balti
AC-10-20
ICSC
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
PAGE
1. THE MAN IN THE TRAIN . . . . . I
II. ARNINGTON COURT . . . . . . . 18
III. THE OCTAGONAL Room . . . . . . 35
IV. SATURDAY MORNING . . . . . . .
V. MR. BANGS INTERVENES . . . .
VI. THE HERMIT'S CAVERN . . . . . .
VII. THE ROAD MENDER . ...... 100
VIII. DINNER AND AFTER . . . . . . .
IX. Night . . . . . . . . . . . 137
X. IN THE HIDDEN Room . . . . . . 156
XI. IN THE HIDDEN Room (continued) . . 176
XII. IN THE HALL . . . . . . . . . 194
XIII. SUNDAY MORNING . . . . . . . 215
XIV. AT THE SIGN OF "THE THREE BELLS”. . 228
XV. PROFESSOR XAVIER . . . . . . . 247
XVI. A SUCCESSFUL Ruse . . . . . . .
XVII. SMUGGLERS' Trysn . . . . . . . 272
XVIII. THE AEROPLANE . . . . . . . .
XIX. CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . 307





FRIDAY TO MONDAY
CHAPTER I
THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
WO letters awaited me that Friday morning
amid a host of circulars, some bills and one
or two invitation cards. I selected the letters,
glancing, womanlike, at the vaguely familiar hand-
writing on the envelopes. Carruthers, my man, poured
me out a cup of coffee.
"A pleasant morning, Sir Richard," he remarked.
When Carruthers throws my title at me in that tone
of voice it is usually a prelude to some delicately hinted
request.
"Splendid, Carruthers," I replied, opening the first
envelope.
Carruthers coughed.
“The fact is, an old comrade-in-arms of mine-we
were through Mafeking together, sir-has blown in,
as one might say, from Australia and I wondered if
I might have Saturday off in addition to my usual
Sunday afternoon,” he said.
"Certainly you can have Saturday off," I said, “I


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
shall lunch and dine out. You needn't worry about
me.
"I was thinking of your comfort, sir," he explained.
"With you away so long in these—er—outlandish parts
it seemed like deserting my post—a post that I may
say I appreciate, sir."
"Well, I might go out of town myself for the week-
end," I remarked. "But a man who has just returned
after eighteen months in the middle of Asia isn't in
a hurry to leave London. If you'd ever seen the
Desert of Gobi you'd understand what the sight and
smell of this old city means to me, Carruthers." I
turned to the letter in my hand. "Hullo! Wait a
bit,'1' I said. "This looks like a week-end invitation."
I adjusted my eyeglass and read the letter.
Arnington Court,
Chipping Eden,
Oxfordshire,
28th March, 19—
My dear Montague,
/ have just heard that you have returned from
your Asiatic wanderings. It must be over ten years
since last we met and I should like very much to have
a talk over old times. You are almost the only one
of my old friends that I haven't yet seen. Could you
run down for this week-end? The house is quiet just
now. Come on Friday and wire your train.
Yours sincerely,
Arnington.


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
Arnington! For a moment I was at a loss; then
I recollected. Of course, I had heard that Philip
Tracy had succeeded to the title and the estates during
my absence. People still talked about it. And I had
met Joan Tracy, his sister, twice in town since my
return three weeks ago, thereby renewing an old
friendship which threatened to become something
more. Joan, to be sure, had always looked upon me
as a big brother, and in the intervals between two
voyages of exploration, it had been my duty as well
as my privilege to take her to the theater, buy her
chocolates, and see that her horse didn't run away with
her in the Row. During my last visit home, however,
I had not been able to disguise from myself the fact
that she had ceased to be a schoolgirl. Perhaps it
was a species of cowardice that set me off more speed-
ily than usual to explore the Gobi Desert. I make no
apology for being an explorer; lots of men would be
explorers if they could afford it. Suffice it to say that
the Desert of Gobi presented an arduous problem that
repaid solution and that I returned to England to find
my photograph in the Tatler, and the Royal Geograph-
ical Society awaiting me full of questions regarding
the hinterland of China. I also found that old Lord
Arnington was .dead, that Philip Tracy reigned in
his stead, and that Joan was a disturbingly charming
young woman.
Philip had been one of my greatest friends at
3


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Charterhouse and Cambridge, and as a youngster I
spent many happy days with him at Arnington
Court. Old Lord Arnington was a man of puritan-
ical outlook with very narrow views about the habits
of the younger generation, and after his wife's death
he became more stern and even morose. Nevertheless,
he always welcomed me kindly, and although he
treated Philip with extreme strictness and gave the
soft side of his nature to Joan, the relations of father
and son seemed friendly enough. It was about a year
after he came down from Cambridge that Philip had
a violent quarrel with his father. I had never ascer-
tained the real cause of the breach, but it must have
been very serious, because Philip was turned out of
doors, sent abroad upon a small allowance and told
never to show his face at Arnington Court while his
father lived. I had received one or two letters from
him with addresses in Canada and the States.
I read his letter through again and it struck me as
a little peculiar. It wasn't like Philip. It was stilted
and a little formal. And why did he begin "My dear
Montague"? I had always been "Dick" to him since
our school days. After all, I thought, he might wait.
I was drinking London in like an overthirsty man, and
I wasn't yet satisfied. I made up my mind that I
should write and ask if I might come later.
A slight cough roused me.
"Your coffee, sir, may get cold—and the bacon,"
4


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
said Carruthers, who was standing by the table.
"Good Lord, I've been dreaming," I said, and forth-
with commenced breakfast. "The coffee is excellent,"
I added. "I rather think I shan't go out of town this
week-end, Carruthers."
He bowed gravely. "Very good, sir."
He withdrew, and my glance fell on the other letter.
I picked it up with a strange, anticipatory thrill and
breaking the blue seal, read the following, written in
a neat, firm hand.
Arnington Court,
Chipping Eden,
Oxfordshire,
2&th March, 19—
Dear Dick,
Philip says he is asking you to spend the week-end
here. I do hope you'll find it convenient to come.
I'm very anxious and worried over one or two things
and want your advice. I hate to bother you, but you
have always been so good to me that I'm sure you
will forgive,
Yours,
* Joan.
I rang the bell, and Carruthers drifted in almost im-
mediately.
"By the way, Carruthers," I said. "I've changed
my mind. I'm going out of town for the week-end
after all."
5
"■to
*


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Very good, sir."
"Pack my things and look out a train in the early
afternoon for Chipping Eden. I think one goes from
Paddington."
"Very good, Sir Richard."
"And, Carruthers, take the week-end off yourself."
I finished breakfast and, after lighting a cigar, saun-
tered by way of Curzon and Half Moon Streets into
Piccadilly. Without knowing exactly why, I felt
vaguely uneasy. Of course, Joan's letter gave me
food for thought. What on earth was worrying the
child? But there was something about Philip's letter
that worried me, too. Could anything be wrong at
Arnington Court? Had Joan and her brother quar-
reled? She had given no hint of such a thing when
I met her at Mrs. Courtney's a week ago. Only,
now that I remembered, she had seemed a little wist- ■
ful and distrait. Altogether I felt distinctly puzzled'
and strangely anxious about the week-end in front of
me.
Had I known what that week-end was to bring
forth I believe I would have turned tail then and there,
though I am not a nervous fellow. My taste for ex-
ploration has led me into many a tight corner where
nervousness and panic would have finished a man off;
but one doesn't expect to run up against danger in the
placid countryside and stately homes of old England
—danger that is all the more sinister and menacing
6


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"I forgot. You don't know," he apologized.
"She and her father came over with Philip Tracy from
America when he succeeded to the title. They live
with him, both at Portland Place and Arnington
Court. Go about with him everywhere."
"Now I'm beginning to understand," I said. "But
who are these Vernons, anyway?"
"Honestly I can't say," he replied, "and it's damned
little I don't know. I believe they moved about a bit
in New York Society and were well known out West.
They say Vernon's frightfully rich. I've met him
once or twice. He's an awfully decent fellow and
most interesting to talk to. Traveled all over the
world. Speaks a dozen languages. Dabbles in
archaeology and aviation."
"Evidently a gentleman of catholic tastes," I com-
mented. "Isn't it a bit strange that he should live
with Arnington?"
"They say Arnington is going to marry Pauline
Vernon. But nothing's settled yet. 'Twould be a
pity in a way. It's an old family. Arnington's the
eleventh baron, and I believe they've never married out
of England. However, things have changed a bit
since old Arnington died. The old fellow hardly
stood anybody even a cup of tea, if he could help it,
whereas Philip's been entertaining most lavishly."
He rattled on for a while, recounting the house
parties and dinner parties which had been held at
8


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
when it lurks behind a smiling and tranquil surface.
I strolled on down St. James' and turning into the
Club encountered Reggie Crane. Reggie is an in-
veterate gossip and knows something about everybody
•who is somebody. He inquired politely after the
Desert of Gobi and then asked me to dine with him
that evening.
"Sorry," I said, "I'm going into the country for the
week-end."
"I thought you vowed you wouldn't leave London
for a couple of months?" said he.
"So I intended, but—the fact is, I'm going to
Arnington Court to-day."
He gave vent to a prolonged whistle.
"Hello! Why the whistle, Reggie?" I asked.
"Well, you'll meet Miss Vernon, of course," he said.
"Miss Vernon?"
"Good Lord! You don't mean to say you haven't
heard of Pauline Vernon?"
I confessed my ignorance.
"Of course, you're only just home from the back-
woods," he said. "She's the most wonderful girl—
tall, marvelous Titian hair, divinely graceful, and most
frightfully fascinating. She's asked everywhere with
her father. I'll bet you a tenner you fall to her
charms. She's—"
"But what the devil has she got to do with Arning-
ton Court?" I interrupted irritably.
7


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
Arnington Court and Portland Place. As he put
it, Philip was "paying his father's entertainment debt
to society with interest."
I was filled with a very considerable curiosity as I
took my seat that afternoon in the corner of an empty
first class smoking compartment at Paddington. That
there was something wrong at Arnington Court, I
hadn't a doubt, and I had a feeling that Mr. Vernon
and his daughter were in some way responsible.
Could it be that Joan was worried about the possibility
of her brother's marrying Miss Vernon? I had no
reason to suppose that she held her father's well-known
prejudice against the family marrying out of Britain.
In any event I didn't see how I could help in the mat-
ter. Anyhow, it promised to be an interesting week-
end, and it was a glorious spring day with a warm sun
shining out of a blue sky.
I settled myself in the corner and selected the.Spec-
tator from my bundle of papers. I was thankful to
have the compartment to myself. The journey to
Chipping Eden occupied over two hours and I looked
forward to enjoying my cigar in solitude. I never
smoke a pipe and only use cigarettes by way of a
makeshift. But the very special brand of cigar which
I affect would stand with difficulty the pollution of
smoke from other people's bad tobacco. That is the
sole reason why I like to have a railway compartment
to myself. The effect of lighted briar in a confined
9


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
area upon the aroma of one of my cigars is truly
lamentable.
The whistle blew, the train began to move, and I
was just congratulating myself on my good fortune
when the door opened and a man bundled himself into
the compartment and, after tripping over my foot and
scattering my periodicals, subsided into the corner op-
posite me. He placed a black hand bag on the seat
beside him.
"Sorry," he said and helped me to collect the pe-
riodicals.
I replaced my eyeglass and scrutinized him. He
was an apologetic, rather foolish-looking individual,
youngish, stout, with sandy hair, and a straggling
mustache. His clothes were American in cut.
I assured him unenthusiastically that it was all right
and returned to my Spectator.
"Jehoshaphat! I've knocked a year or two off my
latter end,” he observed, mopping his brow. "Run-
ning for trains ain't in my line."
I mumbled something noncommittal.
Presently, to my horror, he extracted a long black
cigar from his waistcoat, bit it, lighted it, and blew out
a cloud of the vilest smoke it has ever been my mis-
fortune to encounter. The train sped on, he continued
smoking. The current of fresh air coming in at the
window failed to neutralize the effect of that appalling
cigar. My irritation increased apace. There wasn't


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
much chance of enjoying my own cigar in such an
atmosphere, and for all I knew the train mightn't stop
for half an hour.
I glanced at my fellow traveler, who was leaning
back in his corner, puffing steadily and contemplating
the ceiling. A brilliant idea struck me. I pulled out
my cigar case, selected a cigar, cut it and then began to
feel through all my pockets.
"Confound it all, I haven't a match," I lied mag-
nificently. "Might I light my cigar from yours,
sir?"
I leaned forward and stretched out an eager hand
towards his cigar, fearing lest he might offer me a
match. The ruse apparently succeeded, and with joy
I found myself in possession of his vile weed. Very
deliberately I lighted my own cigar, and then casually
threw his out of the window.
"I say, I'm awfully sorry!" I exclaimed. "I'm so
beastly absent-minded. I forgot I wasn't using a
match. Have one of mine?"
I thrust my case towards him.
"Thanks," he said imperturbably helping himself to
one of my cigars. "They look mighty fine. Your
absence of mind is my gain, sir."
He examined the cigar, crackled it, smelled it, and
finally lighted it.
"Yes, sir, this is a mighty fine cigar," he continued,
after a puff or two.
II


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
hand. "Pleased to meet you, Sir Richard. Let me
introduce Woodrow J. Bangs, of Noo York, one of
our class journalists—meaning me, sir. I'm over
here collecting materials for a mighty fine book on
the Great Aristocratic Families and Homes of Eng-
land. We'll sell thousands of copies in the States, be-
lieve me. There'll be autographed pictures of all your
best, hall-marked dooks and earls, and views of their
castles and mansion-houses that'll make Fifth Avenoo
sit up and take notice."
"A great work, Mr. Bangs," I agreed. "But won't
it take a considerable time?"
"Bin at it six months already. See here," he dived
into his hand bag and produced a notebook, bulging
with cuttings from books and newspapers. "There's
some stuff, sir. When W. J. Bangs gets on the trail
of one of your belted earls, there's not much that gets
past him—family traditions, skeletons in cupboards,
ghosts, matrimonial indiscretions—all treated in the
most delicate style."
He opened his notebook at a blank page and pro-
duced a pencil.
"But I like to get an occasional change from the old-
family-and-stately-home stuff," he said, cocking a mild
eye at me. "Now, I got an editor in Noo York that
would give his back teeth for a bright interview with
the fellow that put it across the Gobi Desert."
"Sorry, there's nothing doing, Mr. Bangs," I said.
13


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"And please don't publish an imaginary interview with
me."
"Very well, I'll let you off, Sir Richard," he prom-
ised. "But as the price of my silence I demand your
assistance in a little matter. Last week I got an auto-
graph and full interview with the Duke of Sussex and
a run over his little mansion. This week I hope to do
better. I guess you're well acquainted with Lord
Arnington?"
"I know him," I admitted, a little taken aback.
"And you're bound for Arnington Court?"
"Well, in point of fact, I am."
"So am I."
I stared at him.
"Oh, don't mistake me, I'm not going to stay with
his lordship," he went on. "But I want a bit of the
family history and I want to see over his place. He's
got to go into my book. All the information I have
obtained so far is here in this note."
He took a scrap of paper from the book and read.
"Arnington. Philip Hubert Gerault Tracy nth
Baron. Born 18th March 188— succeeded 19— Ed.
at Charterhouse and Trin. Coll. Cambridge (B.A.
1908)—Unmarried. Patron of two livings. One
sister living; the Hon. Joan Frances Tracy. Seat:
Arnington Court, Chipping Eden, Oxfordshire. Town
residence 103 Portland Place W.—Clubs: Bachelors,
Brook's, Carlton, Royal Aero."
14


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
He put the paper back in the book.
"That's not much to go on, is it?" he said.
"You've simply been copying Debrett."
"That's right. It's a mighty old family, isn't it?"
I laughed at his anxiety. "Oh yes," I answered.
"He's the eleventh baron, but the family tree goes
back almost to the time his ancestors lived in it."
"Good for you," he chuckled.
"I remember the late Lord Arnington used to tell
me about the doings of one John Tracy of Arnington
who was a King's almoner under one of the early
Richards," I vouchsafed. "Arnington Court is built
round a Norman keep, you know—"
"A moment," he said, seizing his pencil and making
rapid notes in his book. "I've got that. Go on."
I gave him one or two stories I had heard from old
Lord Arnington. "Of course, I don't know much
of the family history," I finished. "If you want ma-
terial you must get it from Lord Arnington himself."
"That's just where I want your help," he said. "I
would take it as a real favor if you would introduce
me to him and kind of smooth the ground. Some of
your aristocrats are a trifle offhand."
"I can't make any promises, Mr. Bangs," I said.
"You see, I haven't seen the present Lord Arning-
ton for ten years. But he ought to be democratically
inclined, for I understand he's spent most of these
ten years in your country." I paused a moment.
15


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"By the way, he has stopping with him a Mr. and Miss
Vernon, who, I understand, were figures in New York
society. Have you heard of them?" I inquired as
casually as I could.
He chewed his cigar with a thoughtful frown on
his brow. "I guess I know the guy you mean," he
said at last. "And the girl's got wonderful hair."
"Do you know anything about them?"
He took his cigar from his mouth, hesitated, seemed
about to spervk, then replaced the cigar.
"Nope," he said shortly.
He resumed his cigar and took a little wooden box
from the bag. It opened to form a minute chessboard
upon which the chessmen were secured by means of tiny
pegs fitted into holes.
"Play chess?" he asked.
"A little," I replied. "Afraid we haven't time for
a game before we get to our destination."
He nodded and rearranged a few of the pieces on
the board placing the rest on one side. -
"I almost worked this problem out this morning;
that's why I nearly missed the train," he explained.
"I find a chess problem most stimulating to the brain,
sir, especially when there's another problem to be
worked out."
"Then you have another problem?" I ventured.
"Yes, sir, the problem of how to see Lord Arning-
ton."
16


THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
He became absorbed in the little board on his knee.
For my part I was soon lost in a mist of speculation
regarding my mysterious fellow traveler and his anxi-
ety about Arnington Court. There was something
behind it all that wanted a deal of explaining. I felt
he was keeping something back. Why did he turn
so suddenly reticent upon the mention of the Vernons?
Possibly the whole thing would be cleared up when I
had a talk with Philip and Joan. The girl wouldn't
have written a letter like that without good cause.
Could it be that this mild American journalist knew
the reason?
I was roused by the arrival of the train at Chipping
Eden. I collected my things and called a porter.
Mr. Bangs hastily packed his bag and descended to the
platform behind me.
"Au revoir, Sir Richard," he said holding out his
hand. "I trust I may see you during the week-end.
Perhaps you'd be so kind as to put in a word with
Lord Arnington on my behalf?"
He ambled slowly up the platform carrying his bag.
Suddenly he turned and came back to me with remark-
able swiftness for one so stout.
"Take my advice and keep your eyes skinned," he
said in a low voice. Next moment he was off again
leaving me staring after him in amazement


ARNINGTON COURT
riveted upon the back of the chauffeur and observed
for the first time that he was wearing earrings. I
stared at them, fascinated. There was something sin-
ister about these ornaments and repellent about their
wearer. I recollected the man's swarthy complexion
and foreign appearance. I suppose it was the un-
usual spectacle of a manservant wearing earrings that
made me uneasy. Then I told myself not to be a fool.
Why shouldn't a British peer employ foreign chauf-
feurs if he wanted to? And why shouldn't a foreign
chauffeur wear earrings if he pleased?
I recovered my mental equilibrium as we passed
the east lodge. The car pulled steadily up the familiar,
winding drive, skirted the celebrated lake where Philip
and I had bathed so often in boyhood days, and
emerged on the terrace above.
Arnington Court, as has been already stated, is
built round an ancient Norman keep. The fine tower,
with its thick, massive walls, still forms the outstand-
ing feature of its architecture. The rest of the build-
ing is somewhat heterogeneous in its composition and
has suffered, I am told, from various restorations.
The older part is Tudor, but a large addition was
made about the period of Queen Anne, and there have
been some modern structural alterations.
I was admitted at a side door in what is called the
"new wing" and immediately conducted to a luxurious
room with an ultramodern bathroom opening off.
?9


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
This was something quite new since old Arnington's
time and must have involved the expenditure of a
good deal of the money he had doubtless saved in an
abstemious lifetime.
Having made myself presentable, I found my way
to the old part of the house and descended the stair-
way to the hall. The great hall at Arnington Court
consisted of the original hall, square and small, with
low, arched roof, which formed the principal chamber
in the Norman time and a large addition constructed
subsequent to the Tudor period. The floor of the
Norman portion was raised considerably above the
level of the ground outside and covered, I understood,
the cellars and dungeons where captives and malefac-
tors had once distressfully languished. This part of
the hall had a huge fireplace and was lighted by small
windows set in very deep embrasures because of the
extraordinary thickness of the walls. Its somewhat
gloomy atmosphere was relieved by the newer part of
the hall which was much higher in the roof and con-
tained the stairway, a well-lighted gallery and a fine
row of windows opening upon the terrace.
I found Joan Tracy sitting by a tea table in the
wide inglenook. A cheerful blaze of logs dispelled
the hint of gloominess and lighted up her charming
features, yet I thought she looked pale and worried.
She was talking to a tall man who balanced a tea cup
a little awkwardly in his hand.
20


ARNINGTON COURT
“Hullo, old Dick! How good of you to come,” she
cried and flashed me a happy smile of greeting.
“How good of you to ask me," I said as we shook
hands.
"You know Captain Mayhew, of course," she said.
"Bless my soul, I haven't seen you for ages, Brian,"
I exclaimed, turning to the tall man who greeted me
vociferously and spilled his tea in the process.
Brian Mayhew had been at school and college with
me, and having disappointed his fond father, the Har-
ley Street specialist, by failing to turn himself into a
satisfactory medical man, had subsequently gained
military honors in the Great War.
"I thought you'd become a mandarin or a grand
lama or something," he said. “You haven't given us
much of your society these last two years."
"And what have you been doing?” I asked, as I took
my cup from Joan and seated myself on one of the
long settees.
"Oh, I've been getting demobilized. That took a
year and a half. Since then I've been having a last
shot at medicine to please Harley Street. I've been
working deuced hard and was glad of the chance to
run down here. Just arrived half an hour ago in my
car."
"He hasn't seen Philip yet," Joan put in. “I ex-
pect you three will have a great deal to talk about.
Weren't you all at Charterhouse and Trinity together?”
21


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"We "were, for our sins," I answered.
"It was deuced good of him asking us both at the
same time," Mayhew said. "I expect he put off the
invitation to me until you came home from your
travels, Dick. When he wrote suggesting a quiet
week-end to talk over old times, I was glad I was able
to come."
I could hardly repress a start of surprise. Were
the terms of Mayhew's invitation the same as mine?
"Philip will be back presently," said Joan. "He
went out to the stables to see a hunter that had gone
lame. Oh, here he comes."
I turned round. Arnington was crossing the hall
towards us with a smile but with a curious hesitation
in his manner. He looked older, older than I had
expected to find him in spite of his ten years' absence,
and his handsome face was a trifle drawn and lined
as though he had passed through hard times. His
curling black hair was streaked with gray and he wore
a pair of large horn-rimmed spectacles with tinted
glasses that did not tend to make his appearance any
more youthful. Yet he held himself erect as of old
and his step was firm.
"Hullo, you fellows," he called cheerily. "Glad to
see you once again."
His handclasp was strong, and he seemed in the best
of health and spirits. I noticed that he had acquired
just a trace of an American accent.
22


ARNINGTON COURT
"You look older, Philip," I said.
"Do I? So do you, for that matter—Dick," he said
hesitating, as though uncertain whether he should
allow the familiarity of Christian names. "Ten years
is a good slice out of a fellow's life, you know." He
swung round on Mayhew. "Do you think I've
changed?" he asked. "Take a good squint at me."
"Not much," Mayhew answered. "Except for
those beastly glasses. Did you pick 'em up in the
States?"
"In a way I did," he said with a laugh. "Got some-
thing wrong with my eyes. The light hurt them
dreadfully. I went to a specialist in New York and
he insisted on these if I wanted to save my sight. I
think they're rather becoming."
"And I don't like them," said Joan.
"Our little Joan's turned into a bit of a critic, Dick,"
he said. He pinched her cheek, and I noticed that
the girl shrank a little from his touch. "Let's have
some tea," he continued. "Mr. and Miss Vernon are
out calling at the Rectory. They'll be in soon. I
hope you fellows will like Vernon. He's a great
friend of mine."
The talk became animated, Philip peppering me with
questions about my travels and adroitly refusing to
be drawn into any discussion as to his own doings in
America. I thought it best to respect his reticence
meantime, and did not press him on the matter. He
23


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
talked on a little boisterously and excitedly but showed
himself a fluent conversationalist. He was very
different, I thought, from the rather shy and awk-
ward youth of ten years ago, who had never had very
much to say for himself. Somehow, there was a hint
of strain in the mental atmosphere. I seemed to miss
the old natural Philip I loved. There was just a sug-
gestion of insincerity about this practiced man of the
world. It was as though he were wearing a mask.
Then I cursed myself for an idiot and accused myself
of gross disloyalty to an old friend whom I had ab-
solutely no reason to distrust.
"I've had practically all my old friends staying here,
except you two fellows," Arnington said. "I don't
suppose this old house has been so lively for many
years. My father never used to entertain much, as
you know, and I felt it was up to me to show some
hospitality. You've no idea how delightful it was to
get back among the folk one used to know, to mix
with English people of one's own tastes and standing.
I used to think when I was away buried in the wilds,
that I'd never taste that sort of thing again. But since
I came back people have been awfully kind to me and
I've made heaps of new friends."
"Well, I'm glad you haven't a house full of people
just now," I said. "Brian and I wouldn't have seen
much of you."
He laughed. "I saw to that, Dick," said he.
24


ARNINGTON COURT
"You two were my best friends and I wanted you to
see a good deal of me. I'm afraid you'll find me a bit
changed, and this old house also; but not for the
worse, I hope."
"You've certainly improved the house," I agreed.
Just then a man and a girl entered the outer hall by
one of the long windows which stood open to the ter-
race. They had evidently been motoring. The man
was pulling off a pair of leather gauntlets, and the
girl wore rich furs that set off a startlingly pale and
beautiful face. I stared at her, somewhat rudely, I
fear, as she advanced with an almost feline grace.
Sh§ put up her hands and removed a dainty motor
bonnet disclosing a remarkable head of curling red-
gold hair. Here, without doubt, was the famous
Pauline Vernon.
Introductions were effected, and we all sat round
the blazing logs, for the afternoon was growing chilly.
Joan offered to ring for fresh tea.
"Thanks, no," said Miss Vernon. "The dear Rec-
tor gave us excellent tea, brewed by himself in his
study. He also showed us his collection of butter-
flies. He is a delightful man."
She laughed softly, an utterly musical sound and hav-
ing requisitioned a cigarette from Arnington, smoked
with the air of a connoisseur. She chatted away as
light-heartedly as a child, and it was a pleasure merely
to sit and watch the play of expression on her face.
25


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"It must make a delightful contrast for you to
return from the East to the English countryside, Sir
Richard," said a cultured voice at my elbow. With
a slight start I turned to find that Mr. Vernon was
seated beside me.
"It does," I agreed heartily.
"Though the English countryside needs no contrast
to impress its charms upon one," he went on. "I fear
I cannot yet claim to be an Englishman, but I was
raised in New England, and all my life I have had an
ambition to settle down and spend my latter days on
English soil. Pauline loves England also. And
now—" he glanced affectionately at his daughter, €tnd
then at Arnington—"my little ambition looks like
being realized."
"You mean to settle here now?" I queried.
"I don't know. It all depends," he hesitated a mo-
ment. "We have both been rolling stones to some ex-
tent, Pauline and I. Ever since she left school we
have traveled, and perhaps the wanderlust may return.
You will appreciate that possibility, Sir Richard. I
was immensely interested to read of your travels in
the Chinese hinterland. I know a little of China my-
self. If I may say so, your work in exploration re-
flects great credit upon England."
He made me a charming little bow, and his pleasing
smile disclosed even white teeth, I gave him a cigar
and lighted one myself and we soon became absorbed
26


ARNINGTON COURT
in an interesting discussion on travel and the facilities
afforded to modern explorers. He drew me on to
talk of my journeyings and gave me some account of
his own. He seemed to have traveled all over the
world, and he had something entertaining to say of
many countries he had visited and of the manners and
customs of their peoples. I had never encountered so
charming a personality; he seemed to combine all that
was best in the cultured American gentleman with a
delightful, old-fashioned courtesy of manner that was
irresistible. It was difficult to estimate his age. He
might have been over fifty but looked considerably
younger. There was a suggestion of immense latent
will power about his dark eyes.
I fell completely under his spell, and so absorbed
did I become in our conversation, that for a time I
completely forgot the presence of the others. The
charm was broken by a somewhat startling incident.
I became aware that Arnington had turned and
was looking at something over my shoulder.
"What is it, Sin? What the devil do you want?"
he asked irritably.
I swung quickly round in my chair with a sudden
shiver of repulsion around my spine. A Chinaman,
whose approach I had not heard, was standing behind
me mute and motionless, with his hands crossed and
tucked into his wide silken sleeves. He was the ugli-
est Celestial I have even seen.
27


ARNINGTON COURT
Joan ready waiting for me in the inglenook when I
came downstairs. She was dressed in a simple gown
of some black material that enhanced the pallor of
her cheeks. She looked so pathetic and childlike that
I felt intensely sorry for her. I took her hand and
patted it gently.
"Now what's wrong, Joan?" I said with an encourag-
ing smile. "Get it off your chest, little girl, and you'll
feel heaps better."
She laughed and pushed me into a chair. Then she
stood with her back to the fire and her hands clasped
behind her looking down at me.
"Light a cigarette and smoke while I talk, Dick,"
she ordered. "I wonder if youU think me an awful
fool?"
"Bless your heart, no," I said, doing as I was bidden.
"Well, I'll tell you all about it as quickly as I can.
We may be interrupted any minute. Listen, Dick—"
she lowered her voice and glanced carefully all round
as though she feared an eavesdropper—"there's some-
thing funny about Philip and—and the whole house.
It seems an awful thing to say of one's brother, but I
can't help it. I've grown very much worried about
it lately."
"About what?" I asked.
"That's the trouble. I don't know. It's difficult
to explain, and it's been so—so gradual. When father
died, you know, I went to live with Aunt Beatrice in
20


FRIDAY TO. MONDAY
Scotland and Philip came up to see us there soon after
he came home. He told me Arnington Court was
being renovated and that I wouldn't be able to come
there for a few months. I offered to help him, but
he refused quite firmly. He said he would prefer that
I keep the Portland Place house going. It was months
before I came here and when I did I got a bit of a
shock. He had dismissed all the indoor servants, even
old Shuttleworth, the butler who'd been with us for
years. Most of the outdoor servants were gone too,
except the gamekeeper and one of the gardeners. He
even dispensed with Maltby the factor, and now he
does the estate work himself with some assistance
from a boy called Radcliffe, who was an aviator dur-
ing the War. I believe Mr. Vernon helps him, too."
"The deuce he does!" I exclaimed.
"Yes. I'll come, to Mr. Vernon in a minute. Some
of our old servants have been replaced by foreigners,
and there's that horrible Chinaman who follows Philip
about like a cat. He gives me the creeps. The
strange thing is that no change has been made at Port-
land Place at all, but Philip never stays there for more
than a few days at a time; he's always coming back
here. In the circumstances I like Portland Place bet-
ter and it's well that I do, because Philip doesn't en-
courage me to come to Arnington Court."
"But why on earth shouldn't you come if you
want?"
30


ARNINOTON COURT
"I don't know. I can't come and go as I like.
I'm often asked here when Philip particularly wants me
to play hostess to his house parties, but it was made
pretty clear to me that I wasn't to come here unless
I was told to. Philip was quite nice about it and told
me I was to consider the Portland Place house as my
own until I married, but the implication was that he
would take exclusive control of everything relating
to Arnington Court."
"I hear he has been entertaining on a big scale,"
I observed.
"Yes, he began that as soon as he had completed
his arrangements," she said. "He's been very busy
with it both here and in town. Perhaps I'm a little
old-fashioned, but I thought at the time he ought to
have waited a little longer after father's death. Still,
you know what people are nowadays. And some of
the people who have been here! I know it sounds
snobbish, but they're not the kind father would have
approved—people with sudden new fortunes, women
covered with jewels, big diamonds at the breakfast
table. I—"
She broke off with a laugh.
"These are democratic times, you know," I put in.
"I suppose Philip has enough sense not to mix his
parties too much?"
"Oh, he's the soul of discretion on that score," she
replied. "Perhaps that's how he has retained so many
3i


ARNINGTON COURT
something wrong. The idea has been growing in me
that Philip is trying to conceal something."
"But, my dear child, one can't trust to impressions
alone," I remonstrated.
"A woman can, Dick. But I don't want you to get
secondhand ideas from me. That's why I was so
anxious for you to come down this week-end. I'm
going back to town myself early next week, and you
must come to Portland Place and talk things over with
me after you've had this opportunity of studying the
situation. There's no one else I'd dream of talking
to like this, Dick. In a way it's disloyal to Philip,
but you and I are such old friends and I know I can
rely on your judgment. If you tell me next week that
you think there's nothing wrong, then I shall be satis-
fied."
"It's awfully good of you to trust me like that,
Joan," I said, not without a quaver in my voice for I
was sensibly affected by her confidence in me. "You
know I'd do anything I possibly could to make you
happy. Let me ask you one question. Have you
nothing definite to fix your mind on; no single incident
that made a special impression?"
"Yes, there was just one," she answered, lowering
her voice almost to a whisper and speaking rapidly.
"It was the last time I was down here. One night
after I'd gone to bed I heard a queer sound in the
house. It was a low, moaning sound that rose oc-
33


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
casionally to a cry." She shivered. "We've no fam-
ily ghost here, Dick, but if we had I should have said
it was abroad that night."
She spoke so seriously that I decided it was useless .
to invent possible explanations.
"A cry you say? Did it sound like a human voice?"
I asked.
"I don't know," she whispered. "It "She
stopped suddenly, then said in an ordinary tone.
"And of course this has been a glorious hunting sea-
son. Pauline and I rode to hounds several times."
I took my cue and began to discuss hunting volubly.
A butler had appeared with a tray of cocktails and Mr.
Vernon and Philip were descending the stairs together.


CHAPTER III
THE OCTAGONAL ROOM
PHILIP and Mr. Vernon joined us at the fire
and the group was soon augmented by the
arrival of Pauline Vernon (looking daz-
zlingly beautiful and wearing a wonderful dress that
matched her hair) and a bronzed good-looking young
man of about twenty-five, who was introduced as Mr.
Radcliffe, but who seemed to be generally known as
"Tommy."
Mayhew came last. He is the laziest man of my
acquaintance and is always late.
Dinner was announced, and we adjourned to the
fine old dining room where the Arnington ancestors
patronized us from the walls. The meal passed with-
out incident. It was exquisitely cooked and served
and I remember thinking that the cuisine at any rate
had not suffered from the clean sweep Philip had made
in the matter of the indoor servants. Nevertheless,
I did not like the butler. He was quite a fine-looking
man, still young, but he had the same swarthy features
as the chauffeur, whose earrings had excited my in-
35


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
terest, and there was something sly about the very deft-
ness and silence of his movements. The idea crossed
my mind that he would just as readily and as neatly
have stuck a knife into me as into the bird he carved
at the side table.
On the whole we were a cheerful party. Joan
seemed to havje recovered her good spirits and Arn-
ington waxed almost boisterous over what he termed
our "happy reunion." Vernon showed himself a man
of delicate wit, capable of drawing real smiles and
laughter from an audience when he chose. Radcliffe
seemed a decent young fellow, with nothing very re-
markable about him. I learned that he had gained
some distinction during the War as an airman of skill
and audacity. How that qualified him for the post
he now held of assistant estate manager to Philip, I
couldn't conceive, but it seemed to have something to
do with his appointment. He hardly ever took his
eyes off Pauline Vernon, and it seemed to me that if
Philip had an idea of marrying her, he might have to
reckon his young estate manager as a serious rival.
For her part, the girl who sat between the two, played
one off against the other with what might have been
either a rare skill or a childlike enjoyment of their
obvious admiration.
Once the sinister Chinaman glided into the room
and, bending over his master's chair, whispered a few
words in his ear. Philip nodded, and the Chinaman
36


THE OCTAGONAL ROOM
departed, leaving a moment's uncomfortable silence
behind him.
After dinner we played billiards. The ladies re-
tired early, Radcliffe departed for his cottage in the
grounds and soon after Vernon went off to bed.
Philip took Mayhew and myself to his study for a
smoke and a nightcap. We lighted fresh cigars and
talked till close on midnight. Philip, it seemed, en-
tertained some political ambitions. He meant to be-
come a regular attender at the House of Lords, where
he had already delivered his maiden speech. He also
announced the intention of going in seriously for rac-
ing and explained that he had already acquired the
nucleus of a stud and was looking out for a good
trainer. This puzzled me a little, for I had not
thought him sufficiently wealthy for such an adventure.
He did not appear to have any doubts on that score
himself, however, and I was forced to the conclusion
that his financial resources were much greater than I
had supposed.
We all went upstairs together, Philip switching off
the lights himself and explaining that he never allowed
his servants to be kept late out of bed. It was a few
minutes from midnight when I reached my room and
I was annoyed to discover that I wasn't sleepy. My
brain seemed to be working and throbbing like a piece
of tireless machinery. What was the mystery about
Arnington Court? Was there any mystery at all?
37


FRIDAY t 3 MONDAY
My mind was groping about after something so in-
definite that any precise conclusion was impossible.
On the surface everything seemed normal and in order.
Yet I had the feeling that down beneath the surface
something vague and terrible was moving, something
that might never see the light, but which I must strive
to discover.
I undressed and went to the open window. The
evening was growing warmer. The moon was shining
brightly and I could see the waters of the lake glim-
mering through the trees. I determined to smoke for
a while at the open window, then turn in and read until
I fell asleep.
I looked for my cigar case and discovered that I had
left it in the study. Just then a big clock somewhere
in the house chimed the half hour. I debated the
matter for a while and finally decided to go down and
retrieve my case. Donning slippers and a thick dress-
ing gown, I made my way along the corridors and
down the main staircase. Uncertain of the location
of the electric switches, I had to feel my way more or
less in darkness, until I reached the hall. There the
moonbeams streaming in at the tall windows cast long
bars of pale light athwart the floor, forming an eerie
mixture of shine and shadow. It was necessary to
cross the hall and go down a short passage leading
off to the right near the great stone fireplace. I made
my way silently and with a curious trepidation. The
38


THE OCTAGONAL ROOM
whole atmosphere of the old hall seemed to enjoin
silence. It was as though the secrets of centuries lay
sleeping in its deep shadows and must not be disturbed.
Once in the study I switched on the light and had
no difficulty in finding my cigar case. I put it in the
pocket of my dressing gown and commenced the re-
turn journey, entering the hall as silently as I had
left it.
I had only taken a few steps when I became aware
that I was not alone. A man was crossing a patch of
moonlit floor in the direction of the staircase. I could
see that he wore a long dressing gown of some brightly
colored material over pajamas. I paused irresolute,
uncertain whether to make my presence known to him,
and his next movement decided me to remain still.
There came a faint click and I saw the gleam of
a small electric torch in his hand. He was directing
the beam of light along a section of the wainscoting
below the staircase. I was too far away from him to
see exactly what he was doing, but almost immediately
a small panel appeared to have been slid to one side
and the light from the torch shone into the mouth of
a dark receptacle. He took something from the re-
cess, closed the panel, snapped off his torch, and turn-
ing round walked back towards me. He entered the
patch of moonlight, and I repressed with difficulty an
exclamation of surprise. It was Arnington!
He crossed the hall steadily, looking neither to the
39


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
right nor the left, like a man walking in his sleep.
He was not wearing his spectacles and his eyes were
staring fixedly in front of him. Although he passed
within a few feet of where I stood, he seemed oblivious
of my presence, and he was just disappearing from
my view beyond the far side of the inglenook when
I sprang after him. At the same instant the thought
flashed through my mind. Where could he be going?
There was no passage that way.
I reached the corner close on his heels and saw a
strange thing. Part of the old carved stonework sur-
rounding the great fireplace had swung open on a
pivot, revealing an oblong of pale light about six feet
by three.
My fingers closed on his arm as he was passing
through the opening. I expected him to cry out in
surprise, but he merely turned and stared at me with
wide eyes; then he motioned me to follow him.
We entered a narrow stone passage that took an
immediate bend to the left, and followed it for three
or four yards to where it ended in a short flight of
stone steps leading down to a small room.
A hurried glance round showed me a low, heavily
curtained, octagonal chamber, containing two long
divans piled with silken cushions. In the middle of
the floor was a fantastically carved ebony table and
upon it there burned a small silver lamp and a Chinese
joss stick that rendered the air almost intolerably
40


THE OCTAGONAL ROOM
heavy and warm. On one of the divans the China-
man, Sin, lay deep in slumber, with a tiny pipe, such
as opium smokers use, on a stool at his elbow.
I turned to Arnington in blank amazement and
found him staring at me out of cavernous eyes that
shone feverishly in the dim light. I could see that
the pupils were remarkably contracted.
"What on earth does this mean, Philip?" I asked.
He laid a thin, quivering hand on my sleeve and
peered into my face.
"My God! it's Dick—Dick Montague," he mur-
mured hoarsely. "Just in time—just in time."
"Why, man, you look dreadfully ill," I cried.
"What have you been doing to yourself?" And in
truth, the sight of his haggard, pallid face gave me a
big shock.
"Hush, don't speak so loudly," he whispered, clutch-
ing fiercely at my arm and swaying a little on his feet.
"Take these, Dick, and keep them for me."
As he spoke, he thrust into my hand the objects he
had taken from the recess in the hall. They proved
to be a small pasteboard box and a long envelope.
"I had to remove them from that place out there.
They would have been found," he went on hurriedly.
"It's been a terrible effort for me. Guard them care-
fully, Dick, and for God's sake don't mention them
again to me until I speak to you first. Do you hear
me, Dick? Do you promise?"
4i


THE OCTAGONAL ROOM
my forehead and found it damp with perspiration.
Every nerve and fiber in my body seemed to be
tingling.
There could be no doubt about the reality of the
scene I had just witnessed. There could be no doubt
that Arnington was suffering from the effects of
some powerful drug.
Almost mechanically, I took a cigar from my case
and groping on a table that stood in the inglenook, I
found a match and lighted it shakily. The smoke
seemed to steady me.
"This beats the band," I told myself. The idea of
Philip sharing an opium den with the repulsive China-
man was something outside my wildest speculations.
It made me shudder with disgust, but I couldn't very
well rouse the house over it, and it was useless attempt-
ing to do anything to-night.
I determined to seek bed and was in the act of cross-
ing the hall to the staircase, when my eye caught the
edge of one of the long French windows. It stood
slightly ajar. Very softly I went over and stepped
out upon the terrace. I peered this way and that.
The moon rode serene in a clear sky. Not a leaf
stirred. It might have been fancy, but for a moment
I thought I could discern the movement of a figure in
the shadow of the trees. Then the fleeting impression
was gone.
Suddenly I became aware of a new sensation. I
43


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
sniffed the air several times. Faint though it was,
there could be no doubt about the vile aroma of the
abominable cigar that assailed my sensitive nostrils.
Mr. Bangs had been about somewhere!


CHAPTER IV
SATURDAY MORNING
MY first action, on regaining my room, was
to make a cursory examination of the
things that Arnington had confided to my
unwilling care. They weren't very instructive. The
pasteboard box contained a little tissue paper and a
string of black beads. I returned them to the box and
opened the envelope. It contained several sheets of
thin foolscap covered with figures and what appeared
to be complicated geometrical designs. It was all
rather unintelligible and confusing and, realizing that
I was extraordinarily tired, I threw away the stump
of my cigar and prepared to sleep.
I placed the little box and the envelope beside my
keys and some loose silver on the dressing table. Had
I known then what they involved, I should have been
more careful.
Sleep came with remarkable swiftness and when I
woke on the Saturday morning, the gardens lay al-
ready quite warm in the spring sunshine. I reached
the dining room somewhere about ten o'clock, and
found that everybody else had breakfasted except May-
hew, whom I beat by a short neck.
45


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Philip was about to retire to his business room to
go over some accounts with Radcliffe and attend to his
correspondence. He looked extraordinarily fit and
cheerful; in fact, he seemed to be bubbling over with
good health. I scrutinized him curiously, marveling
at his recuperative power. For a man who indulged
in secret doping he showed surprisingly little after-
effect. Possibly, I thought, he was still under the
influence of the drug—I had heard of people who
looked very well in such circumstances—or possibly
the symptoms were more or less confined to his eyes,
which were now covered by the tinted spectacles.
What would he say if I were suddenly to produce from
my pocket the little box and the envelope that lay
there so snugly? I was tempted to break my promise
to him in order to watch the result, but I kept a tight
grip of myself. After all, a promise shouldn't be
lightly broken, and I felt he must have had some
powerful reason for extorting this one.
He bade May hew and myself a cheery good morn-
ing, chatted for a little, then left us saying he hoped
to complete his business in about an hour.
Mayhew and I breakfasted under the aegis of Joan,
who looked much better this morning. I fear I wasn't
very conversational. All through the meal my
thoughts kept returning to the strange occurrence of
the previous night, and the more I thought about it
the more incredible did it appear. How could I tell
46


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
put a few careful questions to him. He ought to
know something of Philip's habits.
"Good morning," I said. "It looks as though
spring had borrowed a few days from summer."
"Which spring will repay with cold and rain," he
laughed. "I came out here to make the most of it. It
is glorious."
By tacit consent we began to stroll up and down
the terrace, enjoying the wide view'that was to be ob-
tained over the trees beyond the lake. By degrees I
succeeded in turning the conversation to the subject
of Arnington.
"I must say I find Philip has changed a bit," I said.
"Of course, I haven't seen him for many years and
environment makes a big difference in a young man—
especially if he's impressionable. I suppose you've
known him for some time?"
"I met him in San Francisco about five years ago,"
Vernon replied frankly. "We found many tastes in
common and I learned something of his story. I was
sorry for the lad. If I may express the opinion, I
think the late Lord Arnington acted very unfairly
in turning him out of doors. It is true enough that
he ran up debts and I believe that there was an unfor-
tunate love affair; but such things are the peccadillos
of impetuous youth. He's long outgrown them."
"I never heard the details of his quarrel with the
old man," I said. "Are you sure that was all?"
48


SATURDAY MORNING
"Absolutely, so far as I know. Philip is a com-
pletely reformed character-if any reformation is
necessary.”
His statement seemed so emphatic that I hesitated
to say anything more. Still, if he was so fond of
Philip as he made out it was right that he should know
-if he didn't know already.
"You think he enjoys good health, Mr. Vernon?”
I said, after a moment's silence. "I'm a little worried
about his looks and so is his sister."
"Oh, his health is good, I should say,” Vernon an-
swered at once. "He's sound as a bell. I've lived
with him more or less for a couple of years and I ought
to know. He's never had a day's sickness.”
I stopped in my walk and said slowly: "You
wouldn't consider, for instance, that he was addicted
to drugs-opium, morphine, or some such dope ?"
"What on earth do you mean, Sir Richard ?” he
exclaimed, stopping and staring at me with an expres-
sion of utter amazement. He seemed so taken aback,
his 'surprise so obviously sincere, that I determined to
tell him something of what I had seen. In a few
words I narrated my meeting with Arnington in the
hall the previous night, describing his strange appear-
ance and manner of speaking. Some warning in-
stinct, however, prevented my mentioning the inner
room and the incident of the envelope and the little
.box. I felt these could wait further investigation.
48


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"At first I had the idea that Philip was drunk," I
concluded, "but the look in his eyes and his whole ap-
pearance coupled with the fact that he employs that
beastly Chinese valet, convinces me that he was under
the influence of some kind of drug."
"You think the Chinaman may have something to
do with it?"
"He might, if the drug was some preparation of
opium."
"But did Philip not say anything to you? Where
was he going at that time of night?"
"He seemed to be wandering through the hall," I
replied, after a moment's hesitation. "Of course I
spoke to him, and asked him what he was doing. He
seemed to lose command of himself; broke down and
cried like a child, then begged me to leave him and
go off to bed. I saw it was no use trying to reason
with him, so I went."
"But this is dreadful, it is incredible," Vernon cried
distressfully. "I've seen him almost daily for months
past and he has never exhibited any symptoms of such
a dreadful habit."
He stared out across the tree tops, his eyes blink-
ing a little. I fancied I could see tears in them and
felt genuinely sorry for him. Clearly Philip meant
a lot to him.
As if answering my thoughts he put a hand on my
shoulder and said a little brokenly:
5o


SATURDAY MORNING
"This comes as a great shock to me, Sir Richard.
Without further proof I can scarcely credit that
Philip could be the victim of such a habit. In a way
I look on him almost as a son, you know. I had half
hoped that some day he and my little Pauline might
marry. If things are as you say I will leave no stone
unturned to have the matter investigated and a cure
effected."
"That is why I told you what I observed last night,"
I said. "You see so much more of him than I do. It
may be a very difficult case to deal with, but you have
opportunities that I cannot have."
"That is very true," he agreed. "I am not such an
old friend as you, but I am an older man, and having
regard for our great friendship, Philip may listen to
my advice if it should be necessary."
"I had thought of mentioning the matter to May-
hew," said I. "He's almost a medical man, you know,
and might be able to help."
"A good idea," he agreed heartily. "Possibly he
might observe something that would escape the un-
practiced eye. At the same time, Sir Richard, I
should deem it a privilege if you would leave the mat-
ter in my hands. I know I can rely absolutely on
your discretion, and of course you realize what it
would mean to a man in Lord Arnington's position
if anything of this leaked out."
"Of course. I quite understand that."
Si


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Very good, then you can leave it to me to talk
to Philip if I get the chance. It's almost incredible,
and but for the presence of that queer Chinaman in
the household I would be inclined to dismiss the whole
thing as an hallucination on your part. But I have
never liked that Chinaman about the place. Once or
twice I have hinted to Philip that he might employ
a less unconventional bodyservant. At any rate,
I am deeply grateful to you for having told me
about this, Sir Richard, shocking as it is. You may
rely on me to do my very best for the poor boy,
if things turn out to be as bad as we have reason to
fear."
Pauline Vernon joined us on the terrace and the
subject dropped. I felt much the better for my talk
with her father. For one thing, I was glad to have
got the matter off my chest—the burden of the strange
discovery I had made was too perplexing and unpleas-
ant to bear alone—and for another, it was satisfactory
to have found in Mr. Vernon such a helpful and
sympathetic confidant. Clearly he had Philip's wel-
fare just as much at heart as I, and it was beyond
reason to suppose that he should encourage drug tak-
ing in a man to whom he hoped to see his daughter
wedded.
Mayhew appeared with the newspaper and tossed
me the Morning Herald.
"A course of political controversy will do you a
52


SATURDAY MORNING
power of good, Dick," he said. "Take a look at that
and you can see the Times afterwards."
I wandered to the end of the terrace and took a seat
in the sun facing the parterre already bright with
spring flowers. I glanced idly through the paper.
The news seemed to consist entirely of labor disputes,
murders and divorces. Half a dozen marriages of
my acquaintance seemed in course of being dissolved.
It wasn't very encouraging. Suddenly my eye fell
on a paragraph tucked away near the bottom of a sheet
that riveted my attention.
"Scotland Yard [it ran], is investigating the re-
markable disappearance of the famous black pearls
belonging to the Princess Paranoff. The string,
which comprises some of the finest stones ever re-
trieved from the pearl fisheries of the Gulf of Mexico,
and is of immense value, was brought to this country
by the Princess when she escaped from Russia after
the revolution. The extraordinary feature of the case
is that a string of imitation pearls, very cleverly faked,
was substituted for the real one and it is impossible to
say exactly when the exchange was made. It is quite
probable that a period of weeks or even months may
have elapsed between the actual theft and the Princess'
discovery of her loss. The case recalls that of the
diamond cluster belonging to Mrs. K. B. Blenkinsop,
for which an exact replica fashioned of imitation
stones was substituted. The authorities take the view
that both of these mysterious thefts are attributable
S3


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
to an extremely clever gang of thieves working with
remarkable patience and audacity."
I put the newspaper down and stared unseeingly
over the garden. This week-end in the country was
gradually becoming too exciting for comfort. I felt
in my pocket, and my fingers encountered the little
pasteboard box. The black beads which Philip had
thrust upon me last night were nothing more nor less
than the Princess Paranoff's famous pearls. I tried
to argue with myself that it was a mere coincidence,
that the little box really contained valueless beads, that
I had no proof that they were the Paranoff pearls;
it was useless. I remained absolutely convinced that
I had in my possession the identical string for which
Scotland Yard was seeking.
How on earth did Philip come by them? Why
should he have thrust them upon me?
"Damn!" I ejaculated, irritably jumping up and
casting aside the stump of my cigar.
"Worried about something, Dick?"
I looked up to find Arnington beside me smiling
a little and peering at me through his spectacles.
"Bless my soul, I never heard you coming, Philip!"
I said. "Shows how preoccupied a fellow can get
with his own affairs."
"Sorry if anything's worrying you, old man," he
said sympathetically. "I want you to have a good
54


AUTIVAY MORNING
week-end. I'm through with the morning's business
now. Come along and I'll show you round the old
place. You'll find some changes.”
I set off with him on a tour of inspection, feeling
somehow furtive and mean with those pearls burning
a hole in my pocket, and almost as guilty as if I had
stolen them myself. Arnington didn't appear to
notice anything, however. He called Mayhew from
the terrace and took us to the stables where he waxed
enthusiastic over his horses. He had one or two ex-
cellent hunters, and he had built half a dozen new
round the lake and over all the policies, finishing up
in the newly formed rock garden that promised to be
one of the finest in the country.
"You have certainly made a lot of improvements,"
I remarked, as we turned towards the house. “In a
way I can't help marveling at your versatility. Is it
true that you are going in for aviation also ?”
He laughed softly. “You've heard that too?” he
- said. “As a matter of fact I only indulge in aviation
at secondhand. Really it is Mr. Vernon's doing.
You've probably heard of Professor Xavier ?".
I shook my head.
"Oh, I've heard of him," Mayhew said. "Read
something about him in the papers recently. Isn't he
some kind of an inventor?”
"That's right,” Arnington answered." He's a South
55


FRIDAY ^TO atL■^ijrxA^
American. Vernon ran across him in Rio, I believe,
and subsequently introduced him to me. He's an
extremely clever man with a knowledge of aviation
from its infancy. For a long time past he's been
working on experiments in stability and has plans for
a heavier-than-air machine that will hover. Needless
to say, work of that kind requires the laying out of
a considerable amount of capital. Recently the Pro-
fessor came to this country, acquired a place on the
east coast, got together a suitable staff and has been
experimenting on a larger scale. I believe in his ulti-
mate success and have advanced money to him to en-
able him to carry on. I've also used my influence to
make things smooth for him with the authorities. But
Vernon really knows far more about it than I do.
He's as keen as mustard about it and often goes over
to Xavier's place in Suffolk to see how the Professor's
experiments are progressing."
"I'm blessed if I know how you find time to deal
with so many irons in the fire," I said. "You'll be
having a nervous breakdown or contract insomnia and
take to drugs. These things happen you know,
Philip."
I watched keenly to see how he would take my re-
mark. He never flinched, though I thought I saw
him give a slight start.
"No fear of that, Dick," he said. "Plenty of work
never did anybody any harm. It's idleness that kills.
56


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"I'm sorry, old man," Mayhew said contritely.
"But you must admit your story's hard to believe."
"Well, look at these," I said, taking the little box
from my pocket. "This is the string of pearls.he gave
me to keep. Perhaps I'm betraying his confidence
in showing them to you, but since I read that para-
graph in the Morning Herald the whole business has
assumed a more serious aspect."
"By Jove, these look the■ real goods," he exclaimed,
holding up the string. We■ examined it carefully.
There were one hundred and twenty-five graded stones
fastened with a platinum clasp. Seen in a good light
their great beauty and luster were undeniable.
"Still, I don't understand it a bit," he said as I re-
turned the box to my pocket. "You say it was shortly
after half past twelve that you saw Philip in the hall?"
"As nearly as I can judge."
"Then, to my way of thinking, the thing's impos-
sible—absolutely impossible."
"How impossible!" I was getting a little nettled
at his skepticism.
"When Philip left us to go to bed he was perfectly
all right, wasn't he?" Mayhew said slowly. "Very
well, I don't think it possible that a man could be in
the condition you have described within such a short
space of time."
"You mean there is no drug that would act in that
way so speedily?"
58


SATURDAY MORNING
"I wouldn't go so far as that. My experience is
very limited, Dick. But taking all the circumstances
into account I think it is very unlikely."
"Then you think I am mistaken?"
"Either you may have been deceived by the dim
light or Philip was deliberately acting a part to de-
ceive you." He shook his head doubtfully, a puzzled
expression on his big, honest face. "It's damnably
perplexing," he muttered.
"I can't have been deceived," I persisted. "All the
same, you have shaken my conviction a bit. If I could
find the entrance to that secret room I'd feel more
certain my senses hadn't played me false. I propose
we go to the hall and have a look at that stonework
if we get the chance."
He agreed, and we made our way to the hall, which,
for the moment, was empty. I hastened to the great
fireplace with Mayhew at my heels. The place looked
very different in the bright daylight, and it was impos-
sible to point to the exact location of the secret door-
way in the wall.
We found the stonework elaborately carved. Had
the wall been smooth and plain our task might have
proved easy enough. As it was we searched in vain.
Not a crack or a line was visible that might show
where the stone pivoted. The hand, that in days long
past, had wrought the exquisite tracery of the carving
and contrived the secret mechanism of the little door-
59


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
way, had done the work with a rare skill. Had it been
fashioned, I wondered, by some Tracy of long ago
whose very life had depended upon a swift and undis-
coverable retreat ?
We heard footsteps and hastily abandoning our
search, turned to find Pauline Vernon crossing the
liall. The fox terrier scampered around her, occa-
sionally tugging at her skirt. She was dressed in
tweeds.
"Isn't the carving wonderful?" she cried gayly.
"It is well worth looking at. An architect who was
staying here recently—I can't recollect his name—said
it was a magnificent example of early Renaissance.
Do you know something about architecture, Captain
Mayhew?"
"I fear I don't,” Mayhew said a little awkwardly.
"Ah, then perhaps it wouldn't interest you so much
as Sir Richard. I'm sure he knows a lot about these
things."
"I must plead ignorance also, Miss Vernon," I said.
"But one doesn't require special knowledge to be in-
terested in anything beautiful. You interest me, for
instance, but I really can't be said to know you yet,”
and I made her a little bow.
She laughed very delightfully. "The compliment is
pretty, Sir Richard, but the comparison is bad.” She
turned to Mayhew and asked with seeming irrelevance:
"You play golf, don't you?"
60


SATURDAY MORNING
"A bit," he replied modestly.
"Several times he has just failed to win the amateur
championship," I put in.
"I had heard he was a wonderful player," she said
to me. "And do you play, Sir Richard?"
"Only when compelled to," I answered.
"That is splendid; then we shall all spend a happy
afternoon," she cried gayly. "You are to play golf at
Chipping Eden links, Captain Mayhew. It is to be a
foursome in which you will partner Joan against Phil
—Lord Arnington and my father. You, Sir Rich-
ard," she wheeled round and pointed a slim finger
at me, "are detailed—isn't that the word?—to conduct
me to the Hermit's Cavern. It's a thrilling limestone
cave about three miles away. They say there are
stalactites and stalagmites in it. I've always longed to
see it."
"Why, I know it well," I said. "I've often visited
it in the days of my youth. I'm afraid it's rather a
rough road."
"I shan't mind that with such an experienced guide.
I hope the prospect doesn't appall you, Sir Richard?"
"On the contrary, I shall be delighted to visit the
place again. When do we start?"
"Soon after lunch," she answered. "The car will
take the others to the links."
"Then I'd better go and don tweeds before lunch,"
I said, glancing at my watch. "If I recollect the
61


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
road to the cavern aright, it was pretty toilsome even
for a hermit."
I hurried off to change. I should have preferred,
indifferent as I am to the game, to have been golfing
with Joan; and yet the prospect of taking Pauline
Vernon for a long walk interested me not so much be-
cause of the girl's undeniable fascination as because I
hoped to find out in the course of the afternoon, what
her feelings might be towards Philip and whether she
knew anything that might throw a light upon the
strange mystery that surrounded him. Why should
she have chosen me as her guide instead of Philip, I
wondered? I was certain that he would have filled the
role willingly and .if it had been necessary to give
Mr. Vernon a game of golf Mayhew .could have taken
him on while Joan and I—
I had reached my room and stopped aghast in the
doorway, the train of my thoughts rudely shattered.
The room was a perfect chaos. My suit cases stood
open, the wardrobe doors stood open, drawers had
been pulled out and articles of clothing and personal
belongings were scattered all over the floor. For a
moment I thought I had been made the victim of some
idiotic practical joke and then the truth flashed across
me. My things had been hurriedly and thoroughly
ransacked. A hasty examination left me without the
least doubt of it. Somebody had been searching
through all my belongings, turning out all my pockets.
62


SATURDAY MORNING
Some attempt had been made to restore things to their
places, but confusion still reigned. Probably warn-
ing had been given of my unexpected approach, and
the searchers had been interrupted in their work be-
fore they could put things straight.
I suddenly realized that possession of the string of
pearls and the envelope containing the figures and
drawings put me in a position of serious danger.
Clearly I was being watched. Somebody knew or
suspected that the pearls and the envelope had fallen
into my hands; somebody who was determined to re-
cover them at all costs and who might stick at nothing
to gain his end. But who? It couldn't possibly be
Philip. He had given me the things himself. He
had only to ask them back again. The only person to
whom I had spoken about them was Brian Mayhew.
It couldn't possibly be Mayhew.
I gave it up and proceeded to restore order in the
room and change my clothes. If this sort of thing
went on, I told myself, I should make an excuse and
take the next train back to London. The position was
becoming a distinctly uncomfortable one for me. A
little reflection, however, convinced me that I must see
the thing through, partly for Joan's sake and partly
because my inborn love of adventure was beginning to
get the better of my scruples. I had a big problem
to solve, and I heartily wished that my reasoning
powers were better. I ran the risk of making a sorry
63


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
fool of myself or of running myself into considerable
personal danger. I had no idea against what wits or
what organization I might be pitting my puny
strength.
The luncheon gong sounded and I hastened to finish
my dressing. Very carefully I transferred the en-
velope and the box of pearls to the pockets of the
tweed suit I had now donned. I couldn't risk leav-
ing them in the bedroom. On the other hand, the
risk of retaining them about my person seemed even
greater; if these people believed that I held the objects
they sought, they wouldn't stop at ransacking my
room. As I descended the stairs I conceived the idea
of making a little parcel of them and posting them,
under a covering letter to Carruthers; but then I might
attract attention and, in any event, Arnington might
demand them back. Finally, I came to the conclusion
that I ought to conceal them somewhere near at hand
during the week-end. I found the hall deserted, the
others having gone in to lunch. On one side was an
old-fashioned bookcase with glazed doors, an ugly
piece of furniture out of keeping with its surroundings
but suitable, I thought, for my purpose. I examined
it hastily. It contained a worthless miscellany of
literature, the bottom shelf being completely filled with
some twenty large bound volumes of the Country
Gentleman's Magazine, a periodical which the late
Lord Arnington may have perused with interest.
64


SATURDAY MORNING
The books looked pretty dusty; clearly nobody thought
of reading them now.
At random I selected the fifth volume from the end,
stuffed the pearl string with trembling fingers into the
envelope beside the sheets of foolscap, and slipped the
envelope between the leaves of the book. Replacing
the book I closed the doors of the bookcase and stepped
back to observe the effect. There was nothing in the
serried backs of the Country Gentleman's Magazines
to suggest that they secreted a valuable piece of
jewelry. They were as close as the oysters whence
the pearls had come.
Then I threw the little pasteboard box into the fire
and went rather nervously in to lunch.


CHAPTER V
MR. BANGS INTERVENES
WE'LL take coffee out on the terrace,"
suggested Philip, after lunch. "It would
be a shame to waste this sunshine.
To the terrace we accordingly adjourned. The sun
was high and great, puffed-out cloud galleons sailed
athwart a blue sky. A lark caroled somewhere above
the trees. Outwardly, it was one of the gladsomest
spring days I can remember; but for me, at any rate,
the day had lost its charm. There was tension in the
air. I felt as though evil and invisible forces were
at work behind the scenes, preparing some hideous
crime. Chairs had been set out, and the coffee serv-
ice was laid on a wicker table near which we sat.
I glanced round at the people present, wondering if
any of them experienced the same uneasiness as I.
If so, none of them, with the possible exception of
Joan, betrayed it. Radcliffe and Pauline Vernon were
seated a little apart and carried on an animated but
low-voiced conversation. I scanned the faces of
Philip and of Mr. Vernon; they both seemed quite un-
disturbed by anything. Philip smoked his cigarette
66


MR. BANGS INTERVENES
complacently, talked of golf and laid a bet with May-
hew on the result of the afternoon's match. Mr. Ver-
non, urbane and smiling, appeared to have got over
his worry of the morning. Had he discovered any-
thing further, I wondered? Did he fear that a too
careful scrutiny would arouse Philip's suspicions?
Thinking of my ransacked room it was difficult to
sit there talking as though nothing unusual had oc-
curred. I wondered what thoughts the imperturbabil-
ity of my companions concealed. What a mask the
human face is! A little patience in restraining our
feelings, a little practice in controlling our expression,
and the art of dissembling becomes so simple. What
rubbish, I thought, to talk of character being clearly
written on the visage! So much depended on the
ability of the actor. Beneath the smiling surface of
that spring afternoon I scented tragedy. Behind Mr.
Vernon's courteous urbanity, and Philip's cheerful
complacence, lay I knew not what. With last night's
scene fresh in my mind, how could I put trust in
Philip's sincerity? As for Vernon, how did I know
that he had not some sinister part in the mysterious
drama that was being enacted? His daughter even
and young Radcliffe? A little bitterly I came to the
conclusion that Joan and Mayhew were alone to be
trusted.
At all events, the stage was set, the actors were
present, excepting the queer Mr. Bangs, and the drama
*
67


MR. BANGS INTERVENES
I spoke meaningly, with my eyes on Vernon's face.
He stole a covert glance at Philip, a curious glance
that I could not quite fathom.
"I for one am old-fashioned enough to object on
principle to Sunday golf," he said quietly, "and I
shan't support any attempt to interfere with Sir
Richard's enjoyment or comfort, unless he invites me
to do so."
The words were kindly spoken, he smiled at me re-
vealing even white teeth, his keen eyes looked straight
into mine. Nevertheless, I wondered if the simple
little speech contained some secondary and sinister
meaning. Undoubtedly the man fascinated me.
There was a hypnotic quality in his gaze that seemed
to defy suspicion or criticism and yet left me with the
sensation that I must be on my guard. It was like
standing prepared for a fight side by side with a chiv-
alrous friend who might without warning turn into
an implacable and dangerous enemy.
There fell an awkward pause, during which the
feeling of tension increased.
"By the way, Philip," I remarked breaking the
silence, "I met a quaint American journalist in the
train yesterday, who was coming down to Chipping
Eden in order to interview you and get some photo-
graphs of the Court for a book he's compiling.
Very briefly I narrated my encounter with Mr.
Bangs.
69


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"He wanted to get a column and a half on explora-
tion out of me," I finished, "but I saved my bacon by
promising to use my good offices to introduce him to
you."
"But, confound it all, I don't want to be bothered
with newspaper men," Philip exclaimed a trifle ir-
ritably.
"I thought you wouldn't mind. Everybody's doing
it," I said. "Besides, it's too late now, for if I mistake
not here comes the gentleman himself."
Again I intercepted a penetrating glance from
Vernon to Philip. The latter started up from his chair.
We all turned and looked towards the drive.
Mr. Bangs had just emerged on the terrace and was
waddling and puffing towards us, carrying his black
bag in one hand and a pair of light yellow gloves in
the other. No one spoke and it seemed to me as if
Philip and Mr. Vernon watched the stout journalist's
approach with a keen anxiety.
Mr. Bangs halted a few feet away, set down his
handbag and sweeping off his hat made us a deep bow.
He looked so droll that I almost burst into laughter.
"A very good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he
greeted us. "A charming day, Sir Richard"—with
another bow to me—"Could I have the honor of a few
words with Lord Arnington?"
He glanced questioningly from Vernon to Philip
and then to Mayhew. I heard what sounded like a
70


MB. BANGS INTERVENES
sigh of relief escape from Philip and saw Vernon
make the faintest inclination of the head.
"I am Lord Arnington," Philip said quite pleas-
antly. "What do you want?"
"Glad to meet you, Lord Arnington," said Mr.
Bangs, producing a piece of pasteboard from his
pocket. "Here is my card, sir. Woodrow J. Bangs
of Noo York City. I understand your lordship has
lived some time in my little country, so I guess we
needn't stand on ceremony. I've only been here a
month or two and I must say I've been most kindly re-
ceived—by dooks and earls and everybody, sir. To
come to business, I want your photograph and your
autograph, Lord Arnington, and I want a picture of
your mansion and a few details of the family history.
It's all for a book I'm commissioned to compile on
the Great Aristocratic Families and Homes of Eng-
land."
He paused and mopped his brow, looking at Philip
with a comical anxiety. The latter stood fingering
the card in silence, his brows furrowed in thought.
"Well, I'm going off to golf, Mr. Bangs. I can
give you just fifteen minutes," he said at last with a
glance at his watch.
"Fifteen minutes is enough for me, my Lord. I can
give you a nice little chapter out of fifteen minutes
shorthand notes. I guess you need have no fear of its
propriety, either; it will be sent to you in proof for
-
7i


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
correction before it is finally printed. That's under-
stood."
Philip turned to me. "This is your fault, Dick," he
remarked with a laugh. "Do you think I should grant
the interview?"
"Well, I think you may rely on Mr. Bangs' promise
to let you revise the portion of his book referring to
you," I replied, a little surprised that he should seem
so ready to acquiesce.
"Come along then, Mr. Bangs. Just fifteen min-
utes, remember," he said. The stout American im-
mediately stuck his hat on the back of his head,
whipped out notebook and pencil and commenced a
rapid fire of questions.■ His grasp of the subject was
truly amazing, and I could only suppose that he had
stereotyped a set of comprehensive questions that
would give him all the material he needed. Philip in-
deed seemed rather at a loss to find an answer to some
of the queries relating to the family history; he was
much more at home when he came to deal with him-
self and his plans for the future, and appeared eager
to pose as a public man—a new phase of his character
to me.
Turning to the architectural features of the house,
Philip and his interviewer entered the great hall and I
followed, impelled by curiosity. The others remained
on the terrace discussing the strange ways of modern
journalism. In the hall Mr. Bangs ambled hither and
72


MR. BANGS INTERVENES
thither, peering and poking, alternately talking and
sending his pencil flying over the pages of his
book. He examined the carved stonework of the fire-
place and the deep window embrasures with especial
interest.
"A Norman Tower! Gee, these are some walls!"
he exclaimed. "You don't happen to have a secret
chamber in the thickness of these wall, do you?"
The sudden question fitted so remarkably into my
train of thought that I dropped my monocle and stared
at Mr. Bangs in open-mouthed amazement. Either
the man was speaking innocently or he had the most
infernal cheek. I recovered myself in time to see
that Philip was obviously startled. His face paled
and he took a step backwards as though he had been
struck. Then he broke into a laugh and answered ,
nervously.
"No, we don't keep any secret chambers; at least,
none that I know of. As you have observed, the walls
are thick, but I'm sure any such romantic apartment
would have been discovered."
"Hra, I'm sorry about that," said Mr. Bangs.
"They give tone to a place. The Dook of Sussex has
a secret stair in his castle that is the real thing. Took
me down it himself. It came out in the dining room
through the portrait of one of his ancestors right by
the sideboard and there was cigars and fine old brandy
all ready." He smacked his lips reminiscently. "Ah,
73


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
well, this is a mighty fine hall just the same," he added
with a regretful sigh.
"I cannot allow the Duke of Sussex to outdo me in
hospitality, even though I am unable to provide a
secret door," Philip said, and pressed a bell. The
butler came.
"A liqueur brandy and a cigar for this gentleman,
quickly, Grayson," he ordered, in spite of Mr. Bangs'
protestation.
The man withdrew and reappeared soon with the re-
freshment on a silver tray. His handsome and
*» vaguely sinister figure seemed to attract Mr. Bangs'
attention even more than the great fireplace had done.
"I drink to your lordship's very good health," cried
the journalist and tossed down the liqueur at a gulp.
Then he lighted the cigar appreciatively with a twin-
kling glance in my direction. "Now, Lord Arning-
ton, a glimpse of your pictures if I may and I'm
through."
I did not follow them into the dining room but
turned back to the terrace much puzzled. What was
this American journalist's game? I was certain there
was more in his visit than the mere collecting of ma-
terial for a book. If his object was to spy out the
land he was managing it fairly successfully. His glib
tongue and blandly innocent manner might serve to
throw Arnington off his guard and enable him to
achieve his ultimate purpose whatever it might be.
74


MR. BANGS INTERVENES
The big car in charge of the chauffeur with the ear-
rings was drawn up on the terrace. Golf clubs had
been placed in front beside the driver, and Joan, May-
hew and Mr. Vernon were ready to start. Radcliffe
had taken himself off and Pauline Vernon stood chat-
ting with the others.
"Is my guide ready?" she called as soon as she saw
me. "We ought to be off."
I replied that I was quite ready but managed to
avoid an immediate start for I was anxious to see Mr.
Bangs again. I had not long to wait. He came out
with Philip, talking volubly and drawing on his yellow
gloves.
"You've been most kind, Lord Arnington," he
was saying. "Some folks say the arts of politeness
and hospitality are gradually being lost in England,
but in my experience your aristocracy preserve the
good English traditions. I will not trespass longer
on your time beyond asking you for your autograph
and permission to take a photograph."
As he spoke he reached his black bag which still
lay where he had placed it and diving into it he pro-
duced a camera and a little album bound in what ap-
peared to be a dark morocco. The chauffeur had de-
scended from the car and was helping Philip on with
a motoring coat.
"If you will give me your autograph, Lord Arn-
ington, I guess .1 won't worry you any more," said
75


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Mr. Bangs, thrusting the album and a fountain pen
under Philip's nose.
"Confound you, man, haven't I done enough!" cried
Philip testily. "I'm not a member of the royal family,
you know."
"No royalties for me this trip," the journalist
chuckled. "Just your autograph on that blank page
there and you'll be rid of me for good. They've all
done it so far; and without those examples of the aris-
tocratic fist my book would lose much of its value.
You see, the idea is to reproduce the appropriate auto-
graph in facsimile at the head of each article. It'll
make the thing more live."
Philip hesitated. He seemed strangely unwilling to
accede to Mr. Bangs' latest request. I thought he was
about to refuse point-blank, then: "Oh, well, I'll give
it to you if you promise to go away and stay away,"
he said at last.
Mr. Bangs promised, his countenance beaming with
delight. Philip took the album and the fountain pen
and resting one side of the former on his knee in-
scribed his name very slowly and methodically as
though he feared the signature might not do him jus-
tice when it came to be reproduced.
The journalist received the precious album back
reverently and packed it carefully into the bag; then
seizing his camera, he asked if he might be permitted
to snapshot the house from the terrace, suggesting
76


MR. BANGS INTERVENES
that the waiting car with Lord Arnington about to
get in would form a suitable foreground.
"Take what photographs you please," Philip said
irritably, "but don't expect me to wait. I've wasted
enough time as it is."
"Very good, Lord Arnington. I'm infinitely ob-
liged for your patience," said Mr. Bangs. "Perhaps
you will do me the honor of accepting a presentation
copy of the book when it is published. Meantime,
ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon."
He swept off his hat and made us a deep bow.
Philip grunted some reply and telling the others to get
into the car prepared to mount beside the chauffeur.
It was just as the latter, after tucking a rug round the
others in the back, was standing aside to allow his
master to mount to the front seat, that Mr. Bangs
took a snapshot.
The car drove off and I moved over to where the
stout journalist was working with his kodak.
"You couldn't take in the house from there, Mr.
Bangs," I remarked. "The car would fill the whole
place."
"It was the car I wanted," he said. "Ill move back
a bit to get a view of the house, if you would ask the
young lady to stand on the steps." He indicated
Pauline Vernon. "It would improve the picture tre-
mendously," he added.
A little impatiently, the girl moved towards the
77


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
steps. The moment her back was turned he thrust a
slip of paper with lightning rapidity into my hand.
"Read it and burn it at once," he breathed. I was
too surprised to demand an explanation or even utter
a word. A moment later he had skipped to the back
of the terrace.
"That will do nicely, madam," he called to the girl
who had reached the steps.
With the slip of paper clutched tightly in my hand,
I stood watching him until the photograph was taken.
Then he folded up his camera, replaced it in his bag
and, after thanking us profusely, raised his hat and
ambled off down the drive.
I stood staring after him, lost in a muse of perplex-
ing thought, until I heard Pauline Vernon's voice at
my side.
"Isn't he an extraordinary character?" she ex-
claimed. "I wonder if he's quite sane?"
"I've been wondering that, too," I replied. "Cer-
tainly he is the most peculiar journalist I have ever
struck."
"I don't believe he's a journalist at all," she rapped
out. "But no matter. Let us make a start, Sir
Richard. I want to see your famous cavern before
the light begins to fail."
"Yes, it's after two o'clock," I said. "You have
a stout walking stick, I see, Miss Vernon. Allow me
a minute to fetch mine."
78


MB. BANGS INTERVENES
She nodded and I hurried into the house, dashed
across the hall to the fireplace and satisfying myself
that no one 'was about, hastily unfolded the slip of
paper. It was a penciled note.
"I must have an undisturbed conversation with you,
to-day. Be on the high-road half a mile east of the
lodge any time between six and eight this evening.
Do not fail. Come alone and take every precaution
that you are not observed; otherwise there may be
danger."
There was no signature. I threw the note into the
fire, collected my stick and rejoined Pauline Vernon.


CHAPTER. VI
THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
THE way lay across the steep shoulder of a hill,
a spur of the Cotswold, that rose behind the
grounds of Arnington Court. A compara-
tively unfrequented path even in summer time, it was
now deserted in spite of the warm spring afternoon.
The sun slanted pleasantly over the downland, a few
fleecy clouds floated across the blue vault of the sky
and a freshening breeze was blowing from the hills.
It was delightful and invigorating, and I strode briskly
along the stony path, with Pauline Vernon keeping
step by my side. She walked easily and gracefully, like
some happy naiad of the woods and streams, and I
found myself watching the play of expression on her
features, her charming, rather foreign gestures, and
listening, more and more fascinated, to the music of
her voice. Yet a little whisper within me seemed to
say that here was a dangerous woman, a siren to be
watched and reckoned with. It was an annoyingly
persistent little whisper and it jarred unpleasantly with
my mood and surroundings. It seemed so unreason-
able and so unfair to the charming girl beside me.


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
After all, what right had I to suspect her of any duplic-
ity, or to suppose that she had any knowledge of the
persons who sought to recover the Princess Paranoff's
black pearls? Nor had I any reason to connect her
with Philip's drug taking.
I began to talk more freely to my companion, an-
swering her gay, bantering mood. Suddenly, my mind
leaped to a strange thought that almost pulled me up
in my stride. She bore no resemblance to Mr. Vernon.
She had his fascination, the same peculiar quality of
personal magnetism, but her features were quite dif-
ferent. No one unacquainted with the fact would
have taken them for father and daughter. Were they
father and daughter?
"A" penny for your thoughts," Miss Vernon ex-
claimed. "Do you know that you were staring at me
just now as though I were some new zoological speci-
men?"
"I beg your pardon. I had no intention of being
rude," I apologized in some confusion. "As a matter
of fact, I was wondering whether you were like your
father."
She shot me a sudden glance, half-mocking, half-
suspicious.
"You think I don't resemble him?"
"I wouldn't go so far as that," I replied guardedly,
"but I should not have guessed Mr. Vernon was your
father had I not been told."
81


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
She laughed merrily. "So many people have said
that. Father and I regard it as quite a joke. But
there are others who profess to see a strong likeness
between us. Of course I've been brought up to regard
Mr. Vernon more as a friend than a parent. I should
hate to be parted from him."
"I suppose you must marry sometime," I remarked.
"That might mean parting with him."
"Marry! Then you also have heard the gossips
prophesying. They have no doubt told you I am to
become Lady Arnington."
Her candor rather took me aback.
"Well, I have heard something of the sort," I con-
fessed. "As an old friend of Philip's, may I say that
he would be a very lucky man?"
"Empty compliments, Sir Richard," she laughed.
"But if I should decide to marry Lord Arnington, I
shall insist upon you being the groomsman. I should
make it a condition," she added more seriously, "that
my father continued to reside with us. You may
think it peculiar that I should talk so freely to you,
a comparative stranger, but I know you will be the
soul of discretion. Besides, you are Philip's friend
and I can't talk to his sister. She doesn't like
u
me.
"Joan doesn't like you?"
"No. I fear that in her eyes I'm an intruder,
something of an adventuress. It's a little hard, be-
82


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
cause I'm so keen about Philip's popularity and posi-
tion among his own people and I should hate to prej-
udice him in any way."
Her tone was wistful and she was clearly attempt-
ing to enlist my sympathy. But why?
"I'm sure Joan can entertain no such feeling towards
you," I said, a little at a loss. "Of course you are
aware that it was a tradition of the Tracys not to
marry out of England?"
"I've heard that."
"But Philip is perfectly free to do as he chooses and
as for prejudicing him in any way, why, that's utter
nonsense."
"I'm so glad you look at it in that way. Your
word counts for much with Joan and if you could per-
suade her, and incidentally her aunts, to regard me
with less suspicion, it would make things so much
easier for me."
She looked so pathetic that I began to feel myself
moved by pity towards her. If she were genuinely
fond of Philip, it might well be that something like a
ghastly tragedy lay before her. How could I tell her
of my suspicion that the man she proposed marrying
was a confirmed drug taker? And yet to allow her
to marry him in ignorance of the fact would be mon-
strous. Surely Vernon would see that? It was his
business to look after his daughter's welfare.
"I'm afraid my word doesn't go very far," I said.
83


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Besides, I think you are misjudging Joan. She
would be the last person in the world to stand in the
way of a happy marriage for her brother. However,
I promise you any help I can give, Miss Vernon, but
on conditions."
"Conditions!" she echoed in surprise. "What con-
ditions?"
"Before I answer that, will you first answer a ques-
tion from me? You see, I've no right and no inclina-
tion to mix myself up in Philip's private affairs. But
as I desire his happiness and as you have been so frank
I feel I can ask you this without offense. Are you
in love with Philip and has he asked you to marry
him?"
She laughed suddenly, glancing mischievously at me
out of the corner of her eyes. "Please don't be so
old-mannish about it all, Sir Richard," she begged.
"'Do you know that you are looking grave and a little
—yes, just a little—pompous?"
"I thought we were being serious?" I observed, a
little hurt.
"So we are," she declared, "and to prove it I'll an-
swer your question. The answer to the first part is
doubtful and the answer to the second part is in the
negative."
"But I thought you said that if you should decide
to marry Lord Arnington—" I began, and then
floundered helplessly.
84


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
"Lord Arnington will ask me to marry him if I
choose," she said calmly.
"I can well believe that," I responded heartily.
"And when do you expect to choose?"
She climbed for a few moments in silence. We
were nearing the top of the hill and the path here was
steep and rough.
"I will marry him if I choose," she repeated, paus-
ing in her walk. "I like Philip, I'm interested in his
career, but I cannot say that I love him. That, how-
ever, would not prevent my marrying him, if I was
sure the marriage would be a success. You see, I'm
quite frank, Sir Richard, and I'm not allowing the
issue to be obscured by any old-fashioned sentiment.
If you approve, your help may be of value to me and
to my father, who is keen that the marriage should take
place. That, I think, is all my cards on the table.
Now tell me the conditions you mentioned."
Her whole manner and tone had changed to dead
earnestness. She appeared years older, a fascinating
woman of the world instead of a charming, irresponsi-
ble girl.
"The conditions are easily stated," I said. "As
mistress of Arnington Court you would have to alter
Philip's entourage. For example, Sin, his Chinese
servant might be more satisfactorily employed else-
where."
"You do not like Sin?" she inquired.
85


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Frankly, I do not. Apart from insular prejudice
I have a feeling that his influence isn't good for
Philip."
"Then I promise that, if I marry Philip, Sin shall
go. I don't like him either, and I can't think why
Philip should keep such a peculiar servant. Any other
conditions?"
"There are other exotics among the servants. The
chauffeur with the earrings—"
"Garcia! He's a Cuban, quite harmless and a very
good mechanic. Still, I can promise to have him re-
placed by the good British article if you insist, Sir
Richard. Why are you so anxious about the servants
at Arnington Court?"
I considered a minute before answering and de-
termined on a bold course.
"Miss Vernon, I am convinced there is something
radically wrong at Arnington Court," I said at last.
"I don't know what it is, but I'm determined to get to
the bottom of it. Certain things have come to my
knowledge of which I am not at liberty to speak at
present. Further investigation is necessary before I
can come to a decision and meantime I would beg you
to postpone consideration of this marriage until I am
in a position to tell you what I have discovered."
She turned and looked at me steadily, as though try-
ing to read my thoughts. There was a gleam of
mockery in her dark eyes.
86


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
"Is that a condition?" she asked.
"It is," I answered. "I've no desire to interfere
in other people's concerns, but events have dragged
me into this and I mean to see it through."
Her expression changed again to one of childlike
appeal. "Have you learned something—bad—about
Philip?!' she cried. "Tell me, I implore you. Why
should you keep me in suspense? What concerns
Philip concerns me and I have a right to know now."
"I cannot say more at present. As it is I've prob-
ably said too much," I told her. "You may trust me
to speak as soon as I am in a position to do so."
"Then you refuse?" Her accent was almost tearful.
"I am very sorry I can't say more," I repeated.
She turned on me angrily. I thought she was about
to burst into tears of chagrin and began to wish I had
left well alone.
"You are most unfair, Sir Richard," she exclaimed.
"Do you think it is kind after the way I have con-
fided in you to keep me in the dark? Do you think
I would have told you, a mere acquaintance, about
myself and Philip, about my difficulties and troubles,
if I had not counted upon your help, if I had not ex-
pected at least an equal frankness in return? Oh, I
feel ashamed that I should have spoken to you at all.
I thought you'd be sympathetic."
"But, my dear Miss Vernon, I am sympathetic,"
I cried, amazed at the turn which the conversation had
87


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
taken. "I have no desire to conceal anything from
you which you ought to know, but"
"Pah I You are trifling with words," she inter-
rupted. "You have discovered something about Philip
which may be of vital concern to me and you refuse
to tell me what it is. I am not a child, you know."
She looked so splendid, so appealing, as she paused
there on the hillside, the breeze playing with stray
locks of her hair, her expression struggling between
anger and tears that I was on the verge of telling her
everything. Some instinct, however, warned me that
I had said enough.
"Believe me, I am very sorry if I have caused you
any distress," I said earnestly. "It would be unfair
to you and Philip and to others if I told you about
what is after all a mere suspicion. It may be that my
fears are groundless; but meanwhile all I ask is that
you shall postpone consideration of this marriage for
a short time."
She laid a slim, white hand on my arm and brought
her face close to mine, looking up into my eyes.
"Please, tell me just a little of your suspicions," she
craved. "Perhaps I may be able to help you. Why
should we be at cross purposes?"
I returned her gaze steadily.
"Are we at cross purposes?" I asked.
She turned away immediately and proceeded up the
path. She did not utter another word until we reached


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
the summit, and I thought I had irrevocably offended
her. At the top of the hill she seated herself on one
of those loosely built, low stone walls that are a feature
of the Cotswolds.
All trace of her anger had vanished. She smiled
at me.
"I have come to a conclusion about you, Sir
Richard," she announced.
I looked at her questioningly.
"I have come to the conclusion that you aren't such
a fool as you look," she went on. "I guess it was your
monocle that deceived me."
I bowed. "Then I am forgiven?"
She held out her hand, and I took the slim fingers
in mine for a moment.
"We shall be friends," she declared. "Now let us
rest a moment and look round. What a glorious
view!"
It was indeed a wonderful view. Great expanses of
weather-scarred upland stretched away to the north
and west, intersected by winding dales where the dark
woodland and the bright brown of new plowed earth
made striking contrast. The prevailing note of the
landscape to-day was one of loneliness. Here, on the
edge of the upland, you faced a region surprisingly re-
mote from the workaday world, a land of sheep and
shepherds, of distant coppice and crumbling dry stone
wajls, of free winds blowing across short, crisp turf
89


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
that gave spring and strength to one's stride. Below,
on the other side of the hill, our rough path led into
a long upland valley down which a clear trout stream
wound its way between water meadows and thickets of
oak and hazel. A road that was scarcely more than
a cart track ran a little way up the valley, stopping short
at a long narrow-gabled farmhouse which seemed to
be the only habitation the valley contained.
After a short rest, during which the conversation
was studiously impersonal, we continued on our way.
The path soon forked, one branch leading down to the
stream a few hundreds yards beyond the farm, the
other cut out of the rather steep hillside and making
for a thick wood that clothed the upper portion of the
valley. Our way lay along the latter.
It was just after I had passed this fork in the path
that I began to experience the uncomfortable sensa-
tion of being watched. It was vague, but it was un-
mistakable. I suppose it must be long usage to the
wild places of the earth, where men seldom tread, that
has developed in me the queer instinct that senses the
proximity of other human beings.
I glanced back at the farmhouse, above which we
had passed. Save for a thin curl of smoke from one
of the chimneys, it might have been deserted. Look-
ing up the valley I discerned the solitary figure of a
man walking beside the stream. He appeared to be
an angler, but the distance made it difficult to deter-
90


THE HERMITS CAVERN
mine the point. Otherwise, the valley was deserted.
"What a lonely place and how pretty!" my com-
panion exclaimed. "One would hardly expect to find
such an air of remoteness so near to thriving civili-
zation."
"Possibly that is the reason the hermit chose this
particular valley for his dwelling place," I suggested.
"In addition, of course, he had a ready-made cavern
in the shelter of the woods yonder—that is, if there
ever was a hermit, which I take leave to doubt. Even
the most hardened cave dweller would find stalagmites
a somewhat uncomfortable bed."
"No doubt he built himself a house in the wood and
made a living by showing curious people his cave,"
she said with a laugh. "The quiet must have attracted
him. Is this valley always so deserted?"
"Well, I haven't been here for a number of years,"
I replied, "but Philip and I used to come often as boys
and I recollect that it always seemed more remote than
its neighbors."
We were nearing the wood and happening to glance
upwards I observed a man standing silhouetted against
the skyline, and looking down towards us with one
arm upraised as though in signal. I stared at him for
a moment, wondering whether he might be a shepherd,
then I shifted my gaze towards the stream. The man
who had been walking there had disappeared. I
looked upwards again and found that the figure on the
9i


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
skyline was also gone. A swift premonition of danger
took possession of me; the feeling that I was being
spied upon increased. The two men, one approaching
the wood from the stream below, the other from the
hill above, were neither workers from the farm, nor
were they chance pedestrians. Their movements
rather suggested a common purpose, the carrying out
of a prearranged plan and I was strongly suspicious
that the plan in some way affected me. Somehow I
felt as though an invisible net were being drawn gradu-
ally closer about me. Involuntarily, I had got myself
inextricably involved in some sinister undertaking, and
in so doing I had made enemies who were evidently
not prepared to suffer any interference lightly.
Shaking myself free of the thoughts that assailed
me, I led the way into the wood, a tangled covert of
oak and hazel where a rich carpet of primroses and
hyacinths would shortly bloom. I remembered that
in the summer time, when the foliage was at its best,
this wood was very thick. Even thus early in the
year it was impossible for the eye to penetrate any
distance beyond the path, but I reckoned that I would
be able to detect the near approach of any would-be
enemy.
My companion seemed to have forgotten her recent
anger. She chatted gayly and even excitedly about
the beauty of the place and the thrill she expected to
get out of the hermit's cavern. Her good spirits and
92


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
radiant smile were so infectious that they gradually
lulled to sleep the fears and doubts which beset me and
I even felt an absurd, childish pride in revealing to
her the haunts of my boyhood. Nevertheless, my eyes
and ears remained alert for any sign of trouble, al-
though I was unable to fathom why I should expect
any interference. Once I thought I heard the snap-
ping of dry sticks somewhere ahead but the sound was
not repeated.
We came to a little brook that cascaded through the
underwood between banks of moss and fern. The path
followed it upwards, growing steeper as it mounted.
I explained to the girl that the grotto of the hermit
lay just at the top of the wood, but in spite of her ex-
pressed interest she lingered by the way seeking early
primroses until I suggested that we ought to hasten
if she desired to get back to Arnington Court in time
for tea.
A final scramble up the slippery path brought us
out upon a little open space where the wood thinned
away on either side and which was backed by a precip-
itous outcrop of calcareous rock. Facing us was the
dark narrow opening that marked the mouth of the
cavern.
I paused for a moment, taking stock of my sur-
roundings. All was quiet; there was no sound save
the clatter of the little brook and the murmur of the
wind in the trees.
93


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"You'd better let me go in first," I suggested. "The
entrance is very narrow, but it widens out after a few
feet. I have a box full of wax matches and with the
light coming in from the opening they should serve
to show you all the sights."
"Right You go ahead," she said. "It's quite
thrilling. A cave is always thrilling, don't you
think?"
I nodded agreement and plunged into the opening.
In the darkness ahead I could see the ghostly forms
of stalactite and stalagmite gleaming wanly in the day-
light that filtered past me. I could hear the steady
drip of water.
"Come along in," I called over my shoulder. "It's
fairly dry."
"Coming," she answered and next moment she
stood by my side where the narrow passage opened out
into the cavern proper.
"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" she whispered, clutch-
ing at my arm. "I've never seen anything like it
before."
"The cave goes inward quite a distance," I told her.
"You'll see better when your eyes become more ac-
customed to the gloom." I led her forward a few
feet so that we should not obstruct the light coming in
at the entrance.
"If you would strike a match I think we could see
better," she said.
94


THE HERMITS CAVERN
I fumbled for my box of vestas, while the girl still
clung to my arm.
I was about to strike a match when my ear caught
a faint sound issuing from the corner of the cave near-
est the entrance. I swung round a moment too late.
In a flash I realized that I had been trapped. A dim
figure rushed towards me and was upon me before I
could disengage myself from the girl still grasping my
arm. I aimed a blow at my adversary, heard Pauline
Vernon scream, felt myself seized from behind, and
next moment something was thrown over my head,
and I was borne to the ground.
In vain I struggled to release myself. My arm
was gripped as in a vice and bent under me in such a
way that movement meant torture. The cloth over
my head was pressed against my face so that I was
almost stifled. Somebody held my legs.
Finally I gave it up and lay still, wondering what
would happen next. A deft hand searched carefully
through all my pockets. A faint murmuring reached
my ears as each pocket in turn was examined. Sud-
denly I was released. There was a rush of footsteps
as I staggered blindly to my feet. Choking with rage,
I tore at the covering that enveloped my head only to
discover that it wasn't such an easy matter to remove
it as I had anticipated. For my head was inclosed in
a sack, and a cord let into the opening had been tightly
drawn and knotted firmly round my neck. Here was
95


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
an ignominious position indeed! I cursed the folly
that had led me into such a ridiculous trap.
Feeling through my pockets I found that my knife
had been left me, and after a little maneuvering I suc-
ceeded in severing the cord and freeing myself of the
encumbrance. I turned to the mouth of the cave and
pulled up short.
Pauline Vernon was lying huddled across the en-
trance, her face pale and her eyes closed. The front
of her blouse was torn and she had all the appearance
of having come through a violent struggle. As I bent
over her she opened her eyes and sat up.
"Those dreadful men!" she gasped. "Where have
they gone?"
"They can't be far off," I said grimly. "If I can
lay hands on them they shall suffer for this."
"Oh, please don't leave me," she moaned, struggling
to her feet and clutching my arm. "I'm so fright-
"ened."
I would have given a lot to have been able to rush
after my attackers then and there, but it was clearly
impossible to leave the girl in her present state.
I led her out of the cave and the fresh air seemed
to revive her. The color returned to her cheeks.
"Tell me exactly what happened," I said.
"I—I don't know," she cried. "It all happened so
quickly. I saw them rushing at you. There were
three of them all wearing masks. When they got you
96


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
down one of them turned on me and tore away the
diamond brooch I had fastened in my blouse. I think
I must have fainted then, for I didn't remember any-
thing more until I found you bending over me."
"It looks like a carefully planned robbery," I
said. "Wait here a moment till I examine the cave
again."
I entered the cavern and found my box of vestas
lying just inside. I lighted a match and scrutinized
the ground minutely. A number of my belongings
were lying scattered about and I collected them, making
a careful tally.
"I have been more fortunate than you," I announced
when I rejoined my companion. "They have taken
nothing of importance or value from me. See, they
have left me my watch, and my loose silver and my
gold signet. Fortunately, too, my precious eyeglass
is undamaged."
"They have taken nothing!" she exclaimed incred-
ulously.
"Nothing, except my pocketbook."
"Did it contain anything of value?" ,
I watched her carefully as I answered. "It con-
tained only a ten shilling Treasury note and some un-
important letters."
"But why—" she began and then stopped.
"Perhaps they expected that I carried something
else," I said, "some article that they thought might
97


THE HERMIT'S CAVERN
o'clock when we reached Arnington Court, and the
others had returned from their game of golf.
The story of the robbery caused great excitement.
Philip insisted on telephoning the police at once, but
I managed to dissuade him.
"I want you to leave this in my hands," I begged.
"I shall go over to the police station at Chipping Eden
and interview the constable on duty myself, either
this evening or to-morrow morning."
"But, my dear Dick, there's no room for delay,"
he protested. "These fellows must be caught before
they can get clear of the neighborhood."
"It would serve no purpose," I persisted. "They
wore masks. I didn't see them and Miss Vernon
couldn't identify them. I have lost nothing of value
and I have a very good reason for wanting this busi-
ness left in my own hands. I don't think you should
telephone the police yet, Philip, unless Miss Vernon
insists."
Philip turned to Pauline, who was sipping a cup of
tea. I strove to read his thoughts from his expres-
sion. Did he realize that the pearls were the object
of the attack?
"What do you say, Pauline?" he asked her.
She looked at me with an enigmatic smile.
"Sir Richard knows more about this than he cares
to say," she replied. "I think you should leave mat-
ters to him."


CHAPTER VII
THE ROAD MENDER
AS things turned out, I was able to escape from
the house almost unnoticed, in order to keep
my appointment with Mr. Bangs. Some-
body had called to see Philip on some estate business,
and Vernon had retired with Mayhew to the library.
I made an excuse about writing some letters and man-
aged to attain the seclusion of my room without at-
tracting attention. There I changed into a dark
lounge suit; then made my way to the side entrance
where I had been received on my arrival at Arnington
Court.
There was no one about and I stepped briskly along
the path through the shrubbery that bordered the main
drive. Remembering Mr. Bangs' injunction that I
should take every precaution against being observed,
I thought it best to keep in the shrubbery until I
neared the gates.
On the face of it, it seemed rather absurd to take
all this precaution for the accomplishment of an in-
nocent stroll—but I had grown remarkably suspicious
during the last two days and it seemed to me that the
: ■ ioo


THE ROAD MENDER
servants of Arnington Court were not, in the cir-
cumstances, entirely to be trusted. As I hurried on
between the tall clumps of rhododendron, I began to
wish that I had brought a revolver with me from
London; but people don't usually take revolvers with
them when they are asked to spend a week-end in the
English countryside. Do what I would, I could not rid
myself of the feeling that I was a hunted man, that
enemies might be lurking in the bushes, that a score
of eyes might be spying on me out of the dark places.
It was with a sigh of relief that I gained the bound-
ary wall near the lodge gates. Again remembering
the American's warning, I thought it better to get over
the wall rather than pass in front of the lodge.
Dusk was falling and the road ahead was devoid of
any traffic. As I strode along, I endeavored to mar-
shal my thoughts and arrange them in some sort
of logical sequence. A valuable string of black pearls
had been stolen from an exiled Russian princess, a
counterfeit string having been substituted. The genu-
ine string, I had little reason to doubt, had, by some
extraordinary means come into the possession of Lord
Arnington, who had for some unknown reason trans-
ferred it to my keeping, together with some documents
of evident importance. Certain persons suspecting
that I held these things proceeded to search my belong-
ings. Unsuccessful, they had come to the conclusion
that I must have the goods on my person if I had
IOI


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
them at all, and accordingly a scheme was hastily de-
vised whereby I might be searched without interfer-
ence. No more suitable spot for such an enterprise
existed in the vicinity than the hermit's cavern. Was
it a mere coincidence that Pauline Vernon should have
selected me to guide her to that very spot? Was it a
mere coincidence that the others had been carried off
to golf? The more I thought about it, the more cer-
tain I became that Pauline Vernon had led me delib-
erately into the trap. Her eagerness to start, her
persistent efforts to find out what I knew about Philip,
the way in which she had dallied in the wood soon
after I had spied the man signaling from the hilltop,
her embarrassing clutch on my arm at the moment of
attack—all these things pointed in one direction. But
then, she herself had been attacked! She had screamed
and fainted. This apparent difficulty only strength-
ened my conviction. Without doubt, I had to deal
with a clever actress. The scream, the faint, the tear-
ing of the brooch from her blouse were easily ar-
ranged. Why had they taken her brooch and left me
all my possessions save a pocketbook that was difficult
to examine carefully in the dim light of the cave?
That was the blunder that gave the show away.
And if my argument were sound, then it was fairly
certain that some one of the golfing party was cog-
nizant of the plan to have me searched. Leaving out
Joan and Mayhew as impossible conspirators, I had
102


TEE ROAD MENDER
the choice of Philip and Mr. Vernon. The former
had merely to ask for the return of the things he had
himself given me. That left me with Vernon.
The probability then was that the Vernons, father
and daughter, were at the bottom of the whole mys-
terious business. Alas! my complacent system of
reasoning was to suffer several rude shocks before I
was finished with the affair.
I must have covered about half a mile when I
rounded a bend of the road where a thicket of ash
lined one side, and came upon a stone breaker seated
upon a heap of road metal in a little recess with his
hammer resting against his knee. I walked past him,
scanning the stretch of road in front for any sign of
the quaint figure of Mr. Bangs who ought, I judged,
to be approaching from the direction of Chipping
Eden. As he wasn't in sight I turned on my heel
and lighting a cigarette, strolled slowly back.
"Got a bit o' baccy on you, guv'nor?" the road
mender queried when I got abreast of him. He
clutched a blackened briar in a grimy fist.
"I'm very sorry, but I don't smoke a pipe," I re-
plied. "Could I offer you a cigarette?"
I held out my case and he took a cigarette, regard-
ing it with some suspicion.
"I don't hold much by gaspers," he declared. "It's
the war as has made 'em popular, I dare say."
"It's really quite a good cigarette," I declared. A
103


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
grin spread itself over the laborer's good-natured face
as he lighted the cigarette.
"Almost as good as your cigars, Sir Richard,"
he observed in a familiar tone. "I guess you have
them specially manufactured."
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, completely taken
aback. You don't mean to say you are . . ."
"Mr. Bangs? No, sir. I was Mr. Bangs, but I'm
certainly not Mr. Bangs now."
"But I don't understand. You mean that Mr.
Bangs was a disguise?"
He chuckled at my discomfiture.
"Mr. Bangs has disappeared, permanently I hope,
into my bag of make-up," he said. "Behold me now
in the outer working garments and semblance of
Joshiah Blake, road mender to the Rural District
Council, or whatever they call it in these parts, who
was willing to lend me his kit for a consideration. I
suppose you didn't think it strange to find a road
mender working after six on a Saturday?"
"I hadn't thought about it," I confessed.
"I can only hope others will show the same want
of thought," he went on.
"But what does it all mean?" I exclaimed in be-
wilderment.
"It means just this, Sir Richard," he said solemnly.
"You and I have a lot to say to each other and an al-
mighty short time to say it in. If you were seen by cer-
104


THE ROAD MENDER
tain persons chatting with Mr. Bangs in the highroad,
it would at the very least arouse a dangerous suspicion
that might make things unpleasant for us. A casual
conversation with a road laborer on a fine spring eve-
ning isn't so likely to bring 'em down on our top. I'd
got to see you alone and this was the best scheme I
could organize in a hurry. Now do you get me?"
"I understand so far, of course," I told him. "But
let's see where we are. In the first place who are you?
What the deuce have you and I got to do with one an-
other?"
He threw the stump of his cigarette into the ditch
behind him and shifting his position a little peered
up and down the deserted road.
"You recollect your pal, Guy Fenton, who got mixed
up in a treasure hunt?" he asked suddenly. "I know
he gave you the inner history of the affair. Perhaps
you remember his friend Drew, an actor journalist
and general adventurer, who was with him in most of
the tight places? Well, I'm James E. Drew."
I stared at him in blank astonishment. My mind
switched suddenly back to the days before the War and
to the extraordinary adventures of my friend Fenton
who, in the company of an American named Drew,
had unearthed a treasure of considerable value from
its resting-place in the wilds of Galloway. Fenton
had since gone to America where I understood he had
married.
105


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Drew!" I echoed. "Why, of course I've heard
all about him. But how"
"There's not much time for explanations," he con-
tinued rapidly. "Of course it's a coincidence my meet-
ing you in this affair, an extraordinary coincidence.
I'd no idea until I spotted you in the train the other
day that you were one of Lord Arnington's oldest
friends. It's just going to make all the difference in
the world to me having run up against you, Sir
Richard. Frankly, I'd bitten off more than I could
chew. As you probably know, Fenton and I made a
comfortable fortune out of our treasure-hunting trip,
and Fenton's now settled down to a life of blissful
domesticity. I wasn't made for rearing chickens in
the back of beyond so I kept looking around for some-
thing fresh to do. When the War came I had some
exciting work in the secret service. I used to be a
traveling actor in the old days and I dare say my
histrionic gifts were a help. Anyhow, I made a
number of good friends in the Washington and New
York police administration. Since then I've been oc-
cupying my time partly as a free-lance journalist and
partly as a private detective. It was in the latter
capacity that I came across our friend Vernon and his
daughter. As a matter of fact, I've reason to suppose
the girl isn't his daughter at all, but let that pass. The
authorities got the idea that Vernon was possibly at
the back of a series of ingenious swindles that have
106


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Yes; but first finish your story, Mr. Drew. What
has Lord Arnington got to do with all this?"
He bent forward and lowering his voice still further
said: "Lord Arnington is an impostor."
"What!" I cried, completely startled. "But that's
ridiculous. Why, I've known the man since he was
a child!"
"Don't speak so loudly," he begged. "There may
be other ears than mine nearer than you think. I
know it may be a little difficult to convince you. It's
very easy to be an impostor if the person imposed upon
has no reason to suspect you. People always believe
what they want to believe or at any rate what they have
no reason for disbelieving. You are asked to meet
Lord Arnington after an absence of ten years. You
come down here expecting to see Lord Arnington.
You see a man who looks like Lord Arnington, who
talks like him and you haven't the remotest ground for
supposing him a fraud. Naturally, you believe he is
Lord Arnington. Now / came down here suspect-
ing a fraud and I found it."
"That's all very well, Drew, but I don't think I
could possibly be taken in," I objected. "All his
friends, all the people who used to know him, his own
sister, think him perfectly genuine. Considering his
ten years abroad, he's changed very little. An im-
postor couldn't deceive everybody."
"Why not? Nobody has reason to suspect him.
108


THE ROAD MENDER
On the contrary all his friends over here had every
possible reason to assume that he was Lord Arning-
ton. Human credulity will stand a far greater strain
than that."
"Well, there are a hundred other objections to your
theory," I contended. "No man could keep up such
an imposture. He would require to have the past
history of the man he was supposed to represent at
his finger ends, would have to remember everybody
he ought to know and everything he must have in
common with them. His handwriting would have to
correspond accurately with the original. The ob-
stacles would be insuperable."
"Of course, I see the force of the objections you
raise. It's one of the things we've got to try to ex-
plain," said Drew. "But on the mere question of
mistaken identity—well, I guess you put poor Adolf
Beck in jail on a much smaller resemblance to the
fellow he was supposed to be. That and the Tich-
bourne case are excellent examples of the strength of
human credulity."
"But, why should you suspect him?"
"I'm coming to that. I had never seen him as
Lord Arnington until he succeeded to the peerage
and I saw his photograph in the illustrated papers. I
was at once struck by his remarkable resemblance to
a man I had good reason to remember. In the old
days when I toured the States with theatrical com-
109


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
panies I came across a young fellow whose histrionic
talent was, if I may say so, only inferior to mine. My
last recollection of him was when he toured our com-
pany as manager and left us all stranded in a raw,
God-forsaken Western town, while he decamped with
all the funds. There were several of us who vowed
vengeance on him, but we weren't able to trace him.
"It was some years later that I got on his track
again, and I discovered that he had passed under an
assumed name. It transpired that he was an English-
man whose real name was Alfred Curtiss and that he
had served a sentence of penal servitude in England
for forgery and embezzlement. Well, to cut a long
story short, I found that the new Lord Arnington
had been in tow with Vernon and his crowd. I made
a very thorough investigation of the whole business
and decided to follow it up over here. The New York
police would make no official move in the matter—
said they hadn't anything like sufficient information to
act upon, but I was given every facility to act on my
own including letters to certain officials at Scotland
Yard. In the files at Scotland Yard there is a photo-
graph and the complete Bertillon measurements and
fingerprints of Alfred Curtiss. The resemblance of
that photograph to the present Lord Arnington was
undeniable. It interested Scotland Yard but that was
all. The chance resemblance of an old criminal to a
new peer wasn't any business of theirs. They've got
no


THE ROAD MENDER
imagination, these fellows, but it's swaddled in red
tape. I wasn't satisfied myself so I arranged to get
direct evidence. I look Lord Arnington's finger-
prints."
"Well I'm blessed!" I ejaculated. "How on earth
did you manage that?"
"It was simple enough. As a matter of fact you
were present and of considerable assistance to me.
After lunch to-day Mr. Bangs called to interview his
lordship, and was able to get a good look round. You
recollect he asked for an autograph in his album?
Lord Arnington obligingly complied with the result
that he left clear impressions of all the finger tips of
his left hand and the first, second and third finger tips
of the right on the especially prepared surface of that
little book."
"Good Lord! And you have examined these finger-
prints?"
"Yes, in a rough sort of way. It is, of course, im-
possible to arrive at a definite conclusion until they
have been minutely compared with those of Curtiss at
Scotland Yard. But I have satisfied myself that they
come under the same general classification. For ex-
ample, the index fingerprints in both cases are radial
loops, while the thumbs are composite whorls and loops.
I'd lay a thousand dollars to a dime that the man who
styles himself Lord Arnington is none other than
Alfred Curtiss."


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"I suppose it isn't reasonably possible that two men
should have exactly the same finger marks?"
"The chances are millions to one against, Sir
Richard, and I shall have enough to satisfy me. Be-
sides, there are many other features to be examined.
Handwriting for instance. You remember how un-
willing Lord Arnington was to give me his autograph
and how carefully he wrote it!"
I lighted a fresh cigarette and tried to arrange the
ideas that were crowding in upon me—the change in
Philip, his lapses in memory, the queer wording of
his letter to me. Yet I could have sworn the last was
in his handwriting, which I believed I knew so well■
It was all very bewildering.
"And you masqueraded as Mr. Bangs for the sole
purpose of getting those fingerprints?" I asked at
length.
"Not at all," he replied. "I came down here a
month ago as Mr. Bangs and spent a long time nosing
around. Disguise was a necessary precaution lest
Vernon should see and recognize me, or Lord Arn-
ington, if he happened to be Curtiss in reality, should
do the same. I gathered a lot of useful data and de-
vised the scheme about the book on the Aristocratic
Homes of England. Then I returned to London to
get the necessary stage properties together and, by great
good luck, met you in the train on my way back. So
far I've gone very soft, all on tiptoe so to speak. But
112


THE ROAD MENDER
to-day gave me an excellent opportunity to see the in-
side of the enemy's camp. For one thing, I saw the
butler."
"The butler!"
"Yes, sir, and I knew the dago at once. Before he
got into trouble with the New York police, he was
chief designer to one of the biggest firms of jewelers
on Fifth Avenue. Now what's that guy up to hand-
ing round the soup in the Arnington house? Then,
there's the automobile man with the earrings. Bet
you he's seen the inside of a cell, though I can't place
him yet. My chief difficulty among the servants over
there is the Chinaman."
"Sin. Have you seen him?"
"No, but I've heard about him. You've seen him,
of course, Sir Richard?"
I took a step nearer him and looked down into his
eyes. He met my gaze steadily.
"It seems to me, Drew, that you and I have got to
see this thing through together," I said. "You've
told me an extraordinary yarn and if I weren't entirely
satisfied as to your good faith I should find it difficult
to know what course to adopt. As it is, I'm prepared
to trust you absolutely if you'll do the same by me."
"It's a bargain," he said and held out his hand.
We shook.
"Now, you've omitted something," I went on.
"What were you doing up at the Court last night?"
"3


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
He stared at me in surprise then burst into a
laugh.
"Then you saw me?" he exclaimed. "No, you
couldn't have seen me; it must have been the cigar."
"It was the cigar," I told him. "You left one of
the windows open, I stepped on to the terrace, and the
—er—delicate but unmistakable aroma was wafted to
my nostrils."
"Hm! I knew I was a damned fool to smoke the
thing, even though it was out of doors," he mused.
"My only excuse is that I wanted to think—furiously,
and smoking helps. I'd been examining the premises,
then I managed to get the window open and was ac-
tually in the hall when I heard you coming and got
outside again."
"You saw me coming down the stairs?"
"Yes, and I saw your meeting with Lord Arn-
ington. You may be sure I got properly busy with
my eyes and ears. You both disappeared into what
seemed to be a secret passage. I was about to follow
when I saw you coming back alone. I was afraid
Arnington might also return so I made myself scarce.
It all leaves me mighty puzzled. I want to know what
Lord Arnington, or rather Curtiss, as I believe him
to be, was doing."
I deliberated a moment before replying, then:
"I believe that he gave me the black pearls of the
Princess Paranoff," I said.
114


THE ROAD MENDER
"Jehoshaphat!" Drew exclaimed, starting to his feet
and gripping me by the arm. "You don't say?"
"Ah, it's my turn to surprise you now," I went on.
"Sit down and I'll tell you all I know."
He resumed his place on the stones and I quickly
recounted the whole of my adventures since arriving
at Arnington Court. He listened with rapt atten-
tion, putting an occasional question.
"Now, if I'm right in my assumption as to the
identity of that string of black stones, it looks as
though Vernon was playing the same game in Eng-
land as you suspect he played in America," I finished.
"It seems equally clear that Vernon and his confed-
erates can't know for certain that I have the jewels
and the documents they're so anxious about. But that
doesn't explain the main difficulty. Granted that
Arnington is really Curtiss, why should he have handed
these things over to me?"
"Perhaps he's playing a double game behind
Vernon's back," Drew suggested.
I shook my head. "That won't do. The man was
obviously in deadly terror. When that ugly brute of
a Chinaman stirred he nearly shrieked aloud."
Drew reflected a moment. "You are certain he was
drugged?" he asked
"As certain as any unskilled observer could be," I
answered.
"Then the drug furnishes an explanation. People
ii5


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
who are doped do lots of queer things. Under its in-
fluence he might well have given you the pearls and
later on have forgotten everything about it."
"But he seemed to know what he was doing," I ob-
jected. "And even if he acted under the influence of
the drug, some motive must have dictated his action.
I confess I'm absolutely at sea. What could have
prompted this fellow Curtiss, consciously or subcon-
sciously, to behave as he did?"
Drew got to his feet again and took a turn up and
down the road, his brows knitted in thought. His
keen eyes began to sparkle in the way I was later to
find out they did when he came near the solution of
one of his chess problems. He stuffed a hand in his
trouser's pocket and producing the dirty briar plumped
himself down on the stones again and began sucking
at the empty pipe.
"Wait a bit; I think I've hit the bull's-eye this
time," he declared excitedly. "An explanation has
just occurred to me that covers mostly everything.
The man you met in the hall last night was the real
Lord Arnington."
"But "I began.
"Don't you see how it all works in," he went on
rapidly. "You leave Lord Arnington fit as nails and
see him about half an hour later without his dark
glasses, looking ill and haggard, and clearly suffering
from the effects of some potent drug. He recognizes
116


THE ROAD MENDER
you but is too dazed and terror-stricken to do more
than give you the pearls and the document and secure a
promise of silence. It was Curtiss whom you left to
go to bed and Lord Arnington himself whom you
saw later."
"By Jove, there's something in what you say,
Drew," I cried, becoming as excited as he. "If
Vernon and his gang had the real Lord Arnington in
their power, it would be of tremendous assistance to
Curtiss in prosecuting such an imposture. He could
get every sort of information for playing the part from
Lord Arnington himself; he might even get the real
Lord Arnington to write his letters for him."
But all this seemed to me to raise new perplexities.
"Assuming we're right, I can't understand how the
real Lord Arnington can have got so completely into
their power," I went on. "After all, he's being kept
a prisoner in his own home, while another man is
carrying through a colossal impersonation which must
depend to some extent on his voluntary cooperation.
From what I remember of Philip Tracy, it's incredible
that he should get into such a position."
"Perhaps our Chinese friend could tell us about
that," Drew said thoughtfully. "One thing's clear.
We're up against a very complicated problem and a
very audacious and unscrupulous set of scoundrels. I
fancy we'll have to look pretty slick if we want to get
things done before it's too late. You may know
117


THE ROAD MENDER
wouldn't take the chance of leaving your old friend
Tracy in the clutches of a set of scoundrels who might
murder him any day without any one's being the
wiser?"
I was wavering, and his appeal decided me to fall
in with his proposal. We must, I felt, do something.
It was impossible to sit twiddling our thumbs with this
sinister mystery unsolved. The sooner we got the
enemy out into the open, the better. We discussed our
plan, and it was finally arranged that I should come
down to the hall after all was quiet at night, open one
of the windows and wait for Drew. I remembered
that the new garage where Mayhew kept his car was
situated a little apart from the stables and that the
chauffeur's house was beside the latter. It might be
possible to get the car out without attracting attention,
and accordingly we decided to take Mayhew into our
confidence. His help might be valuable and if there
was to be any question of kidnaping Lord Arning-
ton, his car might be a useful asset.
We were about to discuss details when the hum of
a motor engine came to our ears, growing in volume,
and a big car swung around the corner, from the di-
rection of Chipping Eden. Darkness was closing in,
and the head lamps were already lighted. The car
bore down upon us and drew up suddenly with a grind-
ing of brakes.
"Good heavens, Dick, what are you doing here?"
119


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
The voice was Arnington's. He was seated beside
the chauffeur with the earrings.
"I had a bit of a headache and came out for a stroll,"
I said lamely. "It's a lovely evening."
"Yes, I've been over to one of the farms and came
back by Chipping Eden," he said curtly. "Jump in.
It's half past seven and we dine at eight."
As I got into the car I saw him peering suspiciously
at the stone breaker. It was amazing to see the change
in Drew. In a moment he had become a somewhat
dull-looking country yokel.
"Good night," I called to him.
"Good night, sir," he answered, on his feet with his
hand at his cap.
As we sped back towards Arnington Court my
mind was a whirling maze of perplexities. I stared at
the broad back of the man in front. Was I dream-
ing? Was that well-known figure a stranger to me,
an ex-convict named Ctfrtiss? Or was it not Philip
Tracy after all?


CHAPTER VIII
DINNER AND AFTER
THE tension at the dinner table that night was
somewhat relieved by the presence of the
Rector of Chipping Eden and two other
guests, Mr. and Mrs. Ponsonby, from Hawley Manor
some eight miles distant. Mr. Ponsonby was, I gath-
ered, the possessor of a war fortune, being a manufac-
turer of buttons whose entire output had for several
years decorated the tunics and breeches of our war-
riors. A far-seeing man, he did not wait for the
slump he knew must inevitably follow the war, but
realized his business while trade still boomed and, hav-
ing purchased the estate of Hawley from its indigent
proprietor, prepared with more success than one might
have imagined to live the life of a country gentleman.
Prosperity takes a man all ways, but it never yet did
any harm to the simple and kind-hearted type that Mr.
Ponsonby evidently represented. Mrs. Ponsonby was
clearly more socially ambitious than her husband, was
overdressed, and, had she controlled her display of
jewels as well as she controlled her voice, one could
have found no fault in her. But her chubby fingers
seemed one great scintillation, diamonds coruscated
121


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
all over her ample bosom and a rope of exquisite pearls
hung around her neck.
The good couple had dined several times at Arn-
ington Court, I learned, and had even stayed for a
week-end there on one occasion. Certainly Arning-
ton treated Mrs. Ponsonby with a marked courtesy,
took her into dinner and generally made a fuss of the
good lady who enjoyed it all thoroughly.
But for the soothing babble of the Rector, the timid
political platitudes of Mr. Ponsonby and the gentle
banter of his wife, I should have had the greatest dif-
ficulty in getting through that dinner. My eyes con-
stantly traveled to the man at the head of the table,
who played the genial host so well this evening, who
literally beamed on us as though he hadn't a care in
the world. There was something impenetrable about
him. If only I could tear off those tinted glasses and
see his eyes, I felt that I might be able to read his
secret. Was it Philip or was it not? At any rate,
I decided, I should continue to regard him as Lord
Arnington, until the contrary was proved. To think
of him as Alfred Curtiss only served to set my brain
in a whirl and it was absolutely essential that I should
keep it clear.
"You're very silent to-night, Dick," observed Joan,
who was seated next to me.
"Am I?" said I with a slight start. "Thinking is
always an unsociable occupation."
122


DINNER AND AFTER
"And sometimes a dangerous one," put in Mr.
Vernon. "I guess you've a lot to think about, Sir
Richard. A man doesn't suffer assault and robbery
every day."
"Robbery! Surely there hasn't been a robbery?"
exclaimed Mrs. Ponsonby, who had overheard the last
remark.
At that the conversation focused itself on the ad-
venture that had befallen Miss Vernon and me, and I
was forced to give an account of it for the benefit of
the new guests.
"Dear me! dear me!" murmured the Rector.
"There hasn't been an occurrence like that in these
parts before; at least, not in my time."
Mr. Ponsonby became quite excited. He would
have it that the attack was the work of Sinn Feiners
and so far forgot his manners as to flourish his fork
in a movement of emphasis.
"The police have been informed, of course?" said
Mrs. Ponsonby.
"As a matter of fact I've not told them about it
yet," I said. "I meant to walk over to the Chipping
Eden constabulary, but I don't know that I shall
trouble now."
"Sir Richard has some wonderful clue to the mys-
tery that he won't tell us about," Pauline Vernon ex-
plained. "So the matter is left in his hands. I hope
I may see my poor brooch again."
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FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"But surely you don't intend to sit still and do noth-
ing about it?" Mr. Ponsonby protested.
"On the contrary, I shall place my views before the
proper authorities at the proper time," I replied.
"You see, I've come to the conclusion that this may
be a matter for Scotland Yard."
I looked straight at Arnington as I spoke and fan-
cied I saw him start. I could swear his face paled
for a moment. However that might be, he quickly
recovered his composure and said hastily:
"You must do as you please, Dick. I can't think
why a simple country robbery should be specially re-
served for Scotland Yard, but if I can help you in any
way you know I'm ready and willing. In a way," he
added, turning to Mr. Ponsonby, "I feel responsible
because I invited Sir Richard here and the assault oc-
curred within my jurisdiction, so to speak."
"I'm sure he holds nobody responsible but me," said
Pauline, flashing one of her dazzling smiles upon me.
"The fault was mine for leading him into the danger
zone."
I laughed a trifle uncomfortably. Were these ap-
parently innocent remarks intended to carry an ulterior
meaning? Was this an attempt to trap me into be-
traying how much I suspected? I felt that they were
all looking at me. What a fool I was to have said
anything about Scotland Yard!
"There's really no mystery except as to the identity
124


. ;DINNER AND AFTER
j - —
of the men who attacked us," I said a little lamely.
"But you can't deny that masked and probably armed
men are not now a feature of this countryside. I feel
it would be useless going to the policeman at Chipping
Eden. He'd probably scratch his head and suck his
pencil and then get no further. Still, if you wish,
Miss Vernon, I shall go and interview him this eve-
ning. After all, you lost a valuable brooch."
"Well, it was valuable," Pauline said, "not so much
because of the stones as of the design. It was a copy
from the antique."
"My daughter prized the brooch, and rightly so,"
Vernon put in. "She designed it herself."
This announcement came as a great surprise to me.
Why had the girl not mentioned the fact before, I
wondered. It formed a pivot upon which the con-
versation swung round to the topic of jewels, their
intrinsic worth as precious stones and their value ac-
cording to cutting, setting, and arrangement. It was
here that Vernon took up the tale, exhibiting an ex-
traordinary knowledge of the subject. He discoursed
interestingly, and without the least trace of pedantry
or conceit, on the various classes of precious stones
and the secrets of the jeweler's art. He brought out
all the romance of it. His magnetic personality
seemed to pervade the whole room. That he was ex-
erting his fascination for some particular reason I did
not doubt. Yet there was no hint of effort in the even,
125


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
cultured tone and the quiet manner of this gray-haired,
aristocratic-looking American gentleman.
"You ought to have been a jeweler, Mr. Vernon,"
remarked Mrs. Ponsonby, as the ladies rose.
"I fear that I would not be a success, my dear lady,"
he answered. "I shouldn't have been able to sell any-
thing I'd grown fond of. They say that secondhand
booksellers sometimes fail for that very reason and I,
for one, can appreciate their dilemma."
The departure of the ladies created sufficient diver-
sion to enable the Rector to broach the subject of his
butterfly and moth collection, which he was itching to
trot out and the worthy man bored us for some time
with a description of the indigenous lepidoptera. It
was curious to contrast the dullness of his discourse
with the brilliance of Vernon's—it was really all a
matter of personality.
I moved my chair beside Mayhew and managed,
under cover of the Rector's disquisition, to tell him
that I had news of the utmost importance. He nodded
with a perplexed expression in his face. Poor old
Brian! I knew that his mind was moving slowly and
painfully around the fringe of the mystery and that
it would be a difficult matter to make him grasp the
full import of what I had to tell him.
The way that young Radcliffe fidgeted in his seat
and the alacrity with which he responded to Arning-
ton's suggestion that we should join the ladies con-
126


DINNER AND AFTER
vinced me that Pauline Vernon had been unusually
kind to him that evening. If I was any sort of a
judge, the boy was hopelessly in love with her. I felt
sorry for him. After her avowed intention to be-
come Lady Arnington, his chances seemed slim in-
deed. On the other hand, I reflected, her chance of
becoming Lady Arnington was not quite so rosy as
it had been, unless . . .
My reflections were rudely interrupted by some-
thing that occurred the moment we entered the draw-
ing-room where the ladies awaited us. Although it
wasn't until after the incident was long over that I
grasped its full significance, it was sufficiently startling
to arouse every dormant suspicion within me.
"Oh, papa, you must look at these," Pauline Vernon
cried, jumping up from her place by the fire and run-
ning towards us. "Mrs. Ponsonby has been telling
me all about her lovely things, and she wants you to
look at her pearls." •
She held up Mrs. Ponsonby's string of pearls, and
Vernon took it almost caressingly in his hands.
"Indeed, I regard you as an expert, Mr. Vernon,"
affirmed Mrs. Ponsonby, "I never realized what a ro-
mantic trade a jeweler's was until I heard you talking
about it. I want your opinion on that pearl rope."
"And I hope it will be a candid opinion, sir," said
Mr. Ponsonby. "When I bought that string I was
informed that the stones weje extra quality. I may
•
127


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
say that it cost me—ah—well, not less than two thou-
sand pounds."
"They seem exquisite pearls," said Vernon, running
the necklace through his white fingers and looking at
it closely. "Pearls have such varied qualities. A
great deal depends on the skin and what is termed the
'orient,' that is the purity and delicacy of texture and
luster. There is nothing more beautiful than a per-
fectly symmetrical pearl. If you will permit me to
examine these beneath a stronger light?"
The room was lighted by two shaded electric lamps
and the light was dim in the center of the floor where
we stood. Without waiting for Mrs. Ponsonby's re-
sponse, Vernon strode quickly across to the standard
lamp in the far corner. I watched him carefully,
wondering what was about to follow. He leaned for-
ward beneath the shade of the lamp, and fumbling in
his pocket, produced his gold-rimmed pince-nez.
"My eyes aren't what they were," he explained as
he adjusted his glasses and bent over the string of
pearls.
There was a moment's silence in the room.
"Now, aren't these first-class stones, Mr. Vernon?"
began Mr. Ponsonby, "I dare say they're worth . . ."
"A moment please," Vernon interrupted, in a cu-
riously changed voice. "Is there a magnifying glass
about?"
"There's one right here," Pauline Vernon said,
128


DINNER AND AFTER
snatching up a little ivory-handled reading glass from
a table beside her and running with it to her father.
There was another dead silence as Vernon scruti-
nized the string under the magnifying glass, turning
the pearls over and over in his slim fingers, breathing
gently on them, holding them up to the light. Then
he swung round and came slowly towards us.
"I regret to say that in my humble opinion those
pearls are not genuine, Mr. Ponsonby," he announced
gravely.
"What!" screamed Mrs. Ponsonby.
"But that is ridiculous, sir," cried Mr. Ponsonby,
"quite ridiculous. Why, I bought them at Ashleigh
and Brent's, one of the best firms in London."
"I'm very sorry," said Vernon, handing the neck-
lace back to Mrs. Ponsonby. "Of course, it's just
possible I may be wrong. I cannot really claim to be
an expert. Nevertheless, I think you have been de-
ceived. The pearls are very clever fakes, but still—
fakes."
"Then the matter must be investigated," stormed
Mr. Ponsonby. "It's monstrous! I tell you I paid
well over two thousand for that necklace. I shall go
to London first thing on Monday morning."
"Yes, I think you ought to take the string right back
to Ashleigh and Brent and demand an explanation,"
Vernon advised coolly.
"What shall I do!" exclaimed Mrs. Ponsonby, al-
129


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
most in tears. "It's really too bad. And now I look
closely at the pearls they don't seem so good. Do
they, Arthur?"
Her husband did not respond to her appeal. He
stamped up and down the room, a comically angry
little man. Everybody talked at once. I exchanged
glances with May hew. The colossal impudence of
Vernon was amazing; for cool audacity I had never
come across his equal. That the necklace was a coun-
terfeit I didn't doubt, and I was equally certain that it
had replaced the string of real pearls and that Vernon
knew the whereabouts of the original. It was quite
conceivable that the exchange had been made under
our very noses and that the genuine pearls were
at that very moment concealed in Vernon's pocket or
upon the person of his daughter. A little sleight of
hand and the thing was done. But how could I be
certain? It was impossible to accuse Vernon then and
there of committing an ingenious theft. Besides, I
was entirely at a loss to understand how either he or
his daughter could have had a counterfeit necklace
that closely resembled the original prepared and ready
to use. There was nothing for it but to keep quiet
meantime and redouble my vigilance.
In a wonderfully short time, Vernon had Mr. and
Mrs. Ponsonby calmed, and the erstwhile button manu-
facturer was even attempting to wager Vernon a five-
pound note that his judgment was all wrong. There
130


DINNER AND AFTER
the incident closed for the moment, and shortly after
the Rector took his leave, explaining that he always
sought his couch at an early hour. I fancy that the
■discussion about the pearls had left him as perplexed
and uncomfortable as it had Mrs. Ponsonby herself.
We had some music. Joan sang, Radcliffe sang, a
sentimental ballad in a sentimental baritone, and
Pauline played, a wonderful medley that ranged from
Schumann to revue.
After some maneuvering, I succeeded in getting Joan
to a window recess at the far end of the room where
there was some chance of us conversing without being
overheard, while Pauline Vernon ran from one air to
another and Radcliffe leaned over the piano watching
her hungrily.
"You told me last night that you had an idea that
something was wrong here," I began at once. "And
I think you wanted me to form my own impressions
during the week-end and let you know what I
thought?"
She nodded swiftly. "You've discovered some-
thing?" she asked.
"Yes, I fancy I've discovered something, something
that may cause the deuce of a dust-up before we're
through with it. I don't want you to ask questions
about it just now, Joan. You must trust me to tell
you all about it when I'm more sure of my ground.
At present I'm rather at sea."
131


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"You know that I trust you. If Philip is in any
trouble I can rely on you to heip him out."
I sighed. "Poor little Joan. I hope your confi-
dence won't be misplaced, for I'm afraid we have a
very difficult problem to tackle. Now, tell me, do you
know anything of the Princess Paranoff?"
"The Russian!" she exclaimed. "Why, she stayed
for two or three nights with us at Portland Place last
autumn. Every one was sorry for her, I think, and
wanted to be kind to her."
"Then Philip knows her well?"
"I don't know. He seemed sorry for her like the
rest. She is a charming woman. She also came to
Arnington Court for the big house party at Christ-
mas."
I caught my breath. "Thanks, Joan," I murmured,
"that's just what I wanted to know. Another ques-
tion. Do you know a Mrs. K. B. Blenkinsop?"
She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know her, but
Philip may," she replied. "She belongs to a very
wealthy set in town, I believe, who made a lot of
money during the War and make a point of telling
everybody about it."
"You think she may have been down here?"
"Yes, it's quite possible. I told you Philip had peo-
ple staying here sometimes that father wouldn't have
approved of exactly. I wasn't always asked to Philip's
house parties, you know."
132


DINNER AND AFTER
I nodded, and looked across the room. Pauline
Vernon was flashing merrily all over the keyboard.
The others were listening to the music.
"There's one other matter," I went on hurriedly.
"Have you come across a gentleman named Professor
Xavier?"
"He's an inventor in whom Philip is interested,"
she answered. "I've only seen him once, although
I've heard Philip talk quite a lot about him. They
say he's a recluse and hardly ever leaves his place in
Suffolk."
"Where did you see him?"
"He came here one day, about three weeks ago to
see Mr. Vernon, but Mr. Vernon was absent on busi-
ness. Philip was at home, however, and invited him
to stay overnight. He's a most extraordinary man."
I asked what he was like.
"There was something horrible about him," she re-
plied with a little shudder. "It's difficult to describe
him. They say he's a Brazilian, and he speaks with a
peculiar accent, but I'm certain he's some sort of a
Jew. He's tall and dark with a great shock of untidy
black hair and a long beard. I think he reminded me
of the illustrations of Svengali in Trilby."
"You don't know what he came for?"
"I suppose he came on business connected with his
experiments. I believe Philip has lent him a good
deal of money. But he's really Mr. Vernon's friend.
133


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
I know Mr. Vernon often goes to see him, and Philip
sometimes goes with him."
I put some further questions about the mysterious
Professor but was unable to glean any more informa-
tion. It was a trifle disappointing, for I had counted
on finding something in Arnington's connection with
the inventor that would throw a little light on the
mystery. The strange figure of Professor Xavier had
swum into my ken like some new planet that upsets the
calculations of the astronomers. Was he to be left
out of the problem or did he constitute a new difficulty?
"Is the cross-examination over?" Joan asked, with
a smile after I had maintained a minute's perplexed
silence.
"It is over," I answered, "and it has yielded toler-
ably good results. I'm not being pessimistic, little
girl, if I say that the events of the near future may
tax your patience and courage to the utmost."
"Then you fear something terrible may happen?
Are you afraid of something happening to Philip?
Oh, Dick, you've no idea how I looked forward to
Philip's home-coming after all these years of estrange-
ment. I was always so fond of him and had such
hopes of his career. And now his whole life seems
to be clouded over by some horrible mystery. You
see, I haven't any sisters and Philip's my only brother."
She was looking across to where Arnington sat
by the fire, with a cigarette between his lips. Her eyes
134


DINNER AND AFTER
had filled with tears and it was obvious that she was
overwrought.
"As you say, he's your only brother," I remarked
grimly. "I can sympathize with your anxiety. I'm
as anxious to clear up this business as you are, my
dear, not so much for Philip's sake as for yours."
She squeezed my hand with frank affection in a way
that thrilled and at the same time oddly disappointed
me.
"Dear old Dick," she whispered.
The music came to an end in a whirling cataract of
harmony, and Pauline Vernon jumped up calling upon
Joan for another song. Further exchange of confi-
dences being impossible, we moved over beside the
others.
It was very shortly afterwards that a footman
opened the door to announce that Mrs. Ponsonby's car
had arrived.
"We must go," said Mrs. Ponsonby, rising. "It's
quite a long drive home in the dark. Such a pleasant
evening, except for Mr. Vernon's remarks about my
necklace. If you are right about it, Mr. Vernon, I
don't think I shall ever forgive you. Not that it's
your fault, of course."
Vernon was about to make some smiling retort, but
the words froze on his lips.
For there came through the open door, or welling
up from the floor or whence I know not, a weird, low,
135


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
blood-curdling sound that seemed to pervade the room.
It was like the moan of some animal in torture; it in-
creased suddenly to a quavering scream of insensate
rage that hung in the air and then died away into a
dead stillness.


CHAPTER IX
NIGHT
FOR at least ten seconds no one spoke or moved.
Then Joan swayed towards me, clutching at
my arm. He face was white as paper.
"That's the sound," she gasped. "I've heard it be-
fore."
Mrs. fonsonby suddenly emitted a scream and sub-
sided into the chair from which she had risen. I
saw a spasm of anger contort Arnington's visage.
For a moment he looked like murdering somebody.
Then his features relaxed and he broke into a peal of
unsteady laughter.
"Good heavens! I got quite a start," he exclaimed.
"That was our apology for a family ghost."
"A ghost!" shrieked Mrs. Ponsonby. "Don't tell
me you keep a ghost."
Arnington seemed struggling for something suit-
able to say.
"It sounded to me like some one in an epileptic fit,"
Mayhew said quietly. "Epileptics make strange
noises at times."
"As a matter of fact it's Sin, my Chinese servant,"
137


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Arnington announced quickly. "He occasionally
smokes some poisonous herb or other—a mixture of
hashish I believe—and twice before he has broken out
like that. I warned him on the last occasion that it
would mean his dismissal should it occur again. I'm
extremely sorry it should have happened in your
hearing."
"Then he may be violent," I said. "Surely you
won't risk a crazy Chinaman running amuck about the
house?"
"Of course not. There's no risk. He'll be shut
up in his own quarters and is probably sound asleep.
But for the direction of the wind, carrying the sound
in the chimney there, you wouldn't have heard a thing.
It is most unfortunate."
"It is indeed," I agreed, a little hotly. "It might
scare a nervous person to death."
"You say he's probably asleep?" Mayhew queried.
"I don't envy him the dreams he extracts from
his pipe if they cause such fiendish yells. I wouldn't
have a fellow like that about the place, not at any
price."
Arnington bit his lip, and an angry flush mounted
to his brow.
"I don't intend keeping him about the place," he
declared, in a voice he strove to keep calm. "He's
had his last chance. As soon as he recovers suf-
ficiently to understand his position, I'll give him the
138


NIGHT
biggest slanging he's ever had in his life. After that
I shall kick him out for good."
I turned to see how Vernon was taking all this story
of the Chinaman's iniquity, for I wasn't inclined to
believe a word of it. His face bore an expression of
mild surprise; he caught and held my gaze for a mo-
ment, then looked at Arnington.
"Why did you never tell me about this before,
Philip?" he asked. "You know I've suggested sev-
eral times that you might get a more suitable valet,
but it comes as a great surprise to me that he should
be an opium smoker."
"He was an excellent servant and I used my own
judgment on the matter," Philip answered a trifle
sulkily. "Anyhow, I mean to get rid of him, so we
should all be satisfied." He turned to Mrs. Ponsonby,
who had risen from her chair again. "I'm truly
sorry. Please accept my apologies and assurances that
this will not occur again."
His tone suggested that the incident must be re-
garded as closed. The Ponsonbys bade us an agitated
and very hurried farewell and departed in a state of
excitement and their Rolls-Royce limousine. Arn-
ington declared that he had one of his eyestrain head-
aches coming on and suggested bed. Although it
wasn't later than half past ten, I seconded his proposal
with alacrity. I wanted peace and seclusion to talk
things over with Mayhew.
139


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
A quarter of an hour later I was closeted in my bed-
room with Brian Mayhew striding about the room,
scratching his head and cursing under his breath. I
gave him a cigar and, lighting one myself, sat down
by the leaded casement windows.
"I suppose it's quite possible that the Chinaman
should moan and shriek in that beastly fashion if he
were doped?" I said.
"Yes, it's quite possible," he admitted. "But—"
"You don't believe the tale?"
"I don't know what to believe, Dick. The whole
damned business is getting on my nerves. I've not
been able to get your story of meeting Philip in the
hall last night out of my head. I've been watching
him all day and I still can't credit your story. Philip's
altered a good deal, there's no denying; but I could
swear he's no dope fiend. Why, the man's in splendid
condition! You should have seen the game of golf
he put up this afternoon."
"That only convinces me that I am dead right,"
I said. "For heaven's sake sit down on the
bed or somewhere and I'll tell you what I've found
out. I can't talk clearly to a man that's prowling
about."
He seated himself resignedly on the end of the bed
and I gave him a full account of my interview with
Drew. He listened in silence, his expression changing
from polite incredulity, through puzzlement to open-
140


NIGHT
mouthed amazement. His cigar went out and he made
no effort to relight it until I had finished.
"Phew! that fairly beats the band," he exclaimed,
running his fingers through his hair in a characteristic
gesture. "To think that Philip may not be Philip
after all, and that poor old Philip's perhaps a prisoner
in his own house and that— No, I can't believe it,
Dick."
"Well, are you willing to put it to the test?" I asked.
"Of course. I'm with you in anything you like to
suggest, old man, provided it doesn't involve commit-
ting a crime. I draw the line at crimes. But suppose
you're right, how do you account for Philip's giving
you those pearls?"
"That has to be explained yet. I've learned some-
thing else, however, that throws light on the matter.
You saw to-night how Vernon, after talking jewels
for half the evening, managed to get Mrs. Ponsonby's
necklace into his hands, only to tell her it was faked?"
"You think it wasn't a fake "then?"
If I could have jogged his slow-moving mind by
sticking a pin in his brain, I believe I would have done
it there and then.
"Don't be an ass: Brian," I said. "The string he
handed back to her was a fake, but I'm not so sure
that the string she wore when she arrived was a fake.
My opinion is that Vernon made a clever exchange of
the counterfeit for the original. I found out from
141


NIGHT
his way cautiously to the garage. Once there it would
be possible to get his car out unobserved. The wind
had risen; we could hear it howling and buffeting
around the eaves, and it would easily drown the soft
throb of the engine. He would then drive the car
carefully and without lights down the road from the
garage to the point where it made a junction with the
main avenue near the lodge gates. There he was to
sit and wait until Drew and I turned up. If we suc-
ceeded in getting the real Lord Arnington (assuming
our theory was correct) out of the prison where he
lay concealed and out of the house, the car might be
necessary to shake off pursuit. Finally, I suggested
that if two hours went by without Drew and I putting
in an appearance, Mayhew could come round by the
terrace and into the hall to find out whether we had
been murdered or not. It was quite possible, of
course, that our theory was entirely wrong, but we
must be prepared for all emergencies.
At first, Mayhew strenuously demurred to the part
that I had allotted him. He wanted to come down to
the old hall, and, if necessary, smash a way through the
carved stonework that barred the entrance to the secret
passage. With difficulty I at last reduced him to a
state of semidocility, arguing that it was essential to
have somebody waiting outside and that there was no
sense in all three of us forcing our way into the lion's
den. A sigh of relief escaped me when he finally ex-
H3


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
pressed a resigned acquiescence. Willing as he was,
it would have been disastrous to Drew's plan to have
had him with us on an enterprise likely to involve
infinite caution and quietness of movement. As well
have taken a rhinoceros with me!
It was close on midnight when Mayhew departed
on his mission and left me alone to complete my final
arrangements. I donned a dark smoking jacket,
which I buttoned up to the neck, and a pair of soft
bedroom slippers, and slipped the revolver Drew had
given me into my pocket. Then I stepped cautiously
into the passage and groped my way down the long
corridor until I reached the staircase leading to the
hall.
I cannot say that at that particular moment I felt
any nervousness. The danger and the possible ab-
surdity of my position did not affect me as I might
have expected and I was buoyed up by a sense of ad-
venture and the prospect of immediate taction after
two days of tension and irritating mystery. And so
I descended the dark staircase, cool and alert, with a
thrill in my veins, ready to make the best of my wits
or muscles as occasion might demand.
The hall was dimly lighted by the glow emanating
from the red embers of the dying fire in the great
chimney piece, and the furniture looked mysterious
and shapeless. A grandfather clock ticked heavily in
the darkness and every now and then the moaning
144


NIGHT
wind rose to a shrill whistle. I could hear rain beat-
ing sharply against the windows on the side opposite
the terrace. It was a fortunate circumstance that the
.>
storm was on that side and not on the other, as it
would enable me to leave open one of the big French
windows leading on to the terrace so that Drew could
enter the house quietly.
Moving with the utmost caution, I crossed to one
of the French windows and peered out into the night.
The terrace was plunged in darkness, but, up above,
heavy ragged clouds were blowing across a moonlit
sky. For a moment the moon appeared from behind
a cloud bank and threw long bars of light across the
hall as it had done on the previous night; then another
cloud rolled up and left me in the dim firelight. Very
softly I unfastened the window and opened it an inch
or two.
"Drew," I whispered into the night.
There was no answer and I came to the conclusion
that I must be too early. There was nothing for it
but to conserve my patience and wait his arrival.
I crept quietly over to the inglenook and stretched
myself upon one of the long cushioned seats against the
inclosing partition. Here there was deep shadow and
little risk of being observed, should any one enter the
hall.
I lay still and waited. The old clock ticked on in-
exorably, the wind sang a weird dirge around the house,
145


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
the embers of the dying fire ciumbled and sank lower.
Would Drew never come? The strain of waiting had
its effect on my nerves. I would have given much for
the comfort of a cigar, but I dared not light one.
Misgivings began to trouble me. Suppose that the
man who called himself Drew, who had acted the parts
of Mr. Bangs and the laborer within a few hours, was
really imposing upon me for some purpose of his own.
No, that was unthinkable. I couldn't doubt his hon-
esty, though I might have doubts about his wisdom.
Suppose, then that Arnington, or Vernon or the
Chinaman were to enter the hall before Drew turned
up, what was to be my course of action? Or suppose
that Drew arrived and we were left undisturbed and
were not able to unlock the secret passage?
Misgivings gave way to vague fears. From the
place where I crouched, my view of the dim hall was
restricted. Beyond the arched opening of the low-
roofed part where I lay, I could only see a shadowy
space of floor stretching to the foot of the faintly out-
lined staircase. I could not clearly distinguish the
window I had left ajar for Drew. Perhaps he had
already entered the hall unheard by me. Perhaps
some one else was prowling about beyond the radius
of my vision. Once or twice I thought I heard a
movement somewhere in the hall and raised my head
with straining ears and thumping heart.
I had just decided that I ought to shift my position
146


NIGHT
to where I could command a better view of the win-
dow, when I heard something that brought me to my
feet with a jump. From somewhere near at hand,
but sounding low and smothered, there came the same
weird moaning I had heard an hour or two ago in
the drawing-room.
A sudden impulse seized me to rush out into the big
hall and throw the furniture about until I roused the
household. I took a step forward when suddenly a
shaft of pale light shot across the floor. In one bound
I was back in my place amidst the cushions, with every
nerve tense. The secret doorway just on the other
side of the partition had been opened.
Next moment there came a scuffling noise and the
Chinaman was precipitated violently into my line of
vision, where he sprawled upon the floor. From the
other side of the partition I heard Arnington cursing
his ill-favored servant with a string of oaths that must
have raised the temperature several degrees.
"Get up, you dog," he shouted, "or, by God, I'll
break every bone in your body."
Sin picked himself up and stood with the light from
the open doorway on his scowling face.
"I fancy you won't disobey orders again in a
hurry!" Arnington went on speaking more calmly.
"Damn you! What do you think you're paid for?"
The Chinaman made no reply. He merely bowed,
spreading out his hands in front of him in a curious
147


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
gesture, which was half deprecating, half subservient.
"Very well. Go and fetch Mr. Vernon," Arn-
ington ordered. "Tell him to come at once. It's ur-
gent."
Sin bowed once more and turning, sped swiftly
across the hall to the staircase. At the same time I
heard Arnington's footsteps retreating within the
secret passage. The pale yellow light remained, indi-
cating that he had not closed the door. The way was
open to me in an unexpected fashion. I had only to
slip round the end of the partition and make my way
boldly into the hidden opium den. That some devilry
was afoot I didn't doubt and my timely intervention
might mean the tearing down of the veil that covered
the sinister and mysterious doings of Vernon and his
gang. It might also mean that I would never emerge
from that secret chamber alive. I could not ignore the
fact that interference on my part would not be treated
lightly by people who had shown themselves as un-
scrupulous as they were clever, nor did I minimize the
danger that I ran in taking any hasty action before
Drew arrived. Would he never come?
I was about to leave my hiding place and creep
round to the opening of the passage in order to see or
hear what might be going on within, when Vernon
came down the main stairway with Sin at his heels.
He came quite openly and without any attempt to
conceal his movements. He was still dressed in his
■
148


NIGHT
immaculate dinner clothes and there was certainly
nothing of the furtive criminal about him.
He reached the foot of the stairs, and to my utter
consternation, pressed a couple of electric switches and
flooded the outer hall with light. I lay flat on my
stomach along the couch, my head slightly raised, peer-
ing at him betwixt a couple of cushions. I was fairly
effectively concealed, and it was quite probable that he
would pass without observing me unless he came right
into the inglenook itself.
He paused in the middle of the hall, puffing at the
cigarette he was smoking and glancing keenly all
around. What was he looking for? Suddenly he
took half a dozen swift strides and stopped in front
of the window I had unfastened. He opened it
further and stepped out upon the terrace. A moment
later he came in again and carefully closed and fastened
the window.
Then he turned and came straight towards the ingle-
nook. At the same instant I rolled over on my side,
ruffled my hair, closed my eyes and began to breathe
deeply. I heard him coming nearer. There came
the snap of another electric switch, and the sudden
light over the chimney piece penetrated my closed eye-
lids. I felt him standing over me, examining me as
I lay feigning sleep beneath his critical gaze.
There was an interminable pause, during which I
149


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
seemedjo feel his eyes burning into my brain and
searchingTevery corner of my mind. The strain was
well-nigh fntolerable, and I was on the point of throw-
ing aside the pretense of sleep when his hand touched
my shoulder and he shook me gently.
It was all I could do to keep from jumping up sud-
denly, but I fancy that my pretended awakening
wasn't so badly done after all. I stirred, breathed
more deeply, opened my eyes lazily, closed them again,
then sat up blinking at him stupidly.
"My dear Sir Richard, aren't you thinking of going
to bed?" he inquired calmly.
I assumed my most inane expression and fumbling
for my eyeglass, screwed it into position.
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "I must have fallen
asleep. What's the time?"
"It's long past midnight," he replied. "I think one
sleeps better in bed."
"I grant you that, Mr. Vernon," I agreed affably.
"The fact is, I came down here to smoke a last cigar
before turning in. I didn't feel drowsy at the time,
but the warmth of the fire after a somewhat bracing
day must have sent me over. I'm accustomed to sleep-
ing in odd corners, don't you know."
"I trust you were comfortable. Perhaps I oughtn't
to have disturbed you." His tone was slightly ironi-
cal.
"It's just as well you did," I observed. "One
ISO


1
NIGHT
usually wakens shivering after the fire has gone out.
In fact, it's confoundedly cold already."
"That is hardly to be wondered at. I found a
window wide open in the hall there."
"Really?"
"Yes. Some careless servant, no doubt. There's
quite a storm outside. I happened to be writing late
in the study and was passing through the hall when
I heard you snoring. For a moment I was startled,
then I thought it best to investigate the matter."
I yawned and stretched myself. "I snore most con-
foundedly at times," I said pleasantly.
He regarded me with a curious expression in his dark
eyes. I couldn't tell whether he was amused or angry.
"Well, I guess we'd better turn in," he said. "I
should advise you to get to bed quickly, before you
take any harm."
There was just a suggestion of a threat in his voice.
"Harm!" I echoed.
"You might catch cold."
I rose slowly to my feet. The situation was dis-
tinctly awkward. He seemed determined to pilot me
safely to my room. My attentive ear caught no sound
from the other side of the partition. The Chinaman
must have slipped into the passage and closed the door
after him.
I walked a few steps beyond the inglenook, glancing
casually over my shoulder. There was a thin vertical


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
line of light in the dark face of the carved stonework.
The secret door was ajar.
"Do you know, Mr. Vernon, I had a strange dream
when I was sleeping by the fire," I said. "A curi-
ously vivid dream! I thought I heard the queer
noise that Philip's Chinaman makes when he's been
oversmoking and then I fancied I saw the ugly devil
himself rushing about the house armed with a
scimitar."
"Then it's time you were safely in bed," said Ver-
non, laying a familiar, almost affectionate, hand on
my arm and commencing a very gentle propulsion.
"To tell the truth, I feel a little nervous myself to-
night. This business of Philip has worried me con-
siderably and I. . . ."
His words were rudely interrupted by a loud scream
of rage and the sound of rushing footsteps. Instantly
we both spun round and faced the secret doorway.
It swung open and Philip appeared; Philip clad much
as I had seen him on the previous night, his hair dis-
ordered, his eyes wild and staring, his face deadly
white and contorted with anger and pain. He was
struggling like a madman in the grip of the Chinaman
and the swarthy-faced butler who had each seized an
arm.
"You fools," Vernon thundered. "Take him back
this instant."
"Good God!" I cried and sprang towards the door-
152


NIGHT
way as Philip was overpowered by his captors and
drawn inside again.
But Vernon was too quick for me. His fingers
closed like a steel trap upon my wrist.
"Let me go," I said furiously. "What is the mean-
ing of this?"
I swung round facing Vernon with clenched fist.
He remained cool and imperturbable, but the gentle
look had left his face, the lazy eyes flashed fire, his
features were set in sharper lines. He was trans-
figured; he had changed on the instant into a man of
action, alert and compelling, a live wire of magnetic
force.
"Not too fast, my friend," said he. "Don't do
anything rash. Philip is in a dangerous mood just
■now and I alone can control him."
"What are you doing to him?" I asked.
He dropped my wrist. "Listen to me a moment
and I'll explain matters," he said rapidly. "I told you
I was worried about Philip. It's true; I'm very much
worried. For a long time past he's been taking drugs
and I've been trying to cure him. When you told me
what you had discovered last night, I feigned igno-
rance. I wanted the matter kept secret to save his
sister and his friends needless pain. How could I tell
you then of the months and months of weary struggle
I have had in the attempt to wean him from a soul-
blasting habit? I know something of medicine al-
153


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
though I never qualified. I've been trying to cure him
by withholding from him the means of satisfying his
craving. It has been a gradual process—allowing him
smaller quantities of the drug, increasing the intervals.
Lately, he's been worse. When he wants the drug and
can't get it he behaves like a raving dangerous madman.
He is a madman—absolutely drug-crazed, but it is only
at nights that he ever breaks out like this. I distrust
Sin, his valet. I'm certain he takes bribes from
Philip to procure him drugs against my wishes. You
can, I'm sure, appreciate the difficulty of such a case.
To-night I must try for perhaps the hundredth time to
pacify him and get him under control."
His eyes never left my face, and I listened to him
with a strange fascination.
"Well, Mr. Vernon, whether I accept your explana-
tion or not is of little moment," I said steadily. "I
intend to come with you and assist you in getting him
quiet."
"You'd better go to bed. I warn you it may be
dangerous."
"Nevertheless, I'm coming."
He turned aside with a weary shrug of the shoul-
ders.
"Very well," he said, and I followed him through
the open doorway along the stone passage down the
steps into the curtained chamber.
A strange scene met my eyes. The room had been
154


NIGHT
altered somewhat Two of the curtains were drawn,
one revealing a large mirror and the other a heavy oak
door which stood slightly open. One divan had been
removed and the other was pushed close against one
of the curtained sides and piled high with cushions.
The carved table was in its place with a shaded read-
ing lamp upon it. The remaining furniture consisted
of three wooden armchairs of a heavy antique pattern.
A tall, powerful-looking man whose face was un-
familiar to me stood motionless in front of the door
like a stone sentinel. In a chair beside the table Arn-
ington was seated with the Chinaman standing on one
side of him and the butler on the other. He was
dressed in pajamas and a warm loose-fitting jaeger
dressing gown. He lay back panting a little, his hands
clutching the arms of the chair so that the knuckles
gleamed like polished ivory.
From the moment of his entry, Vernon caught and
held Arnington's gaze. He took a chair on the other
side of the table and motioned me into the third. I
sat down with one hand clutching the revolver in my
jacket pocket and my eyes on Arnington's livid face.


CHAPTER X
IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
THERE was a minute's tense silence.
Then Vernon said easily: "I think you
are forgetting yourself to-night, Philip."
"I'm forgetting nothing," Arnington replied in a
low voice. His cavernous eyes were fixed on Ver-
non's face with a queer mixture of fear and hatred.
"I forget nothing," he repeated, "but I want to forget
and you are trying to prevent me."
"My good fellow, I'm doing my best for you. See,
I've brought an old friend of yours to look after you,"
Vernon indicated me with a gesture of his white hand.
For the first time Arnington looked at me.
"It's Dick," he muttered and passed a weary hand
across his eyes. "Yes, I remember you, Dick. You
must promise to make him give me some more of the
drug. He's torturing me. I'm in hell."
"I'll do anything I can to help you, Philip," I
answered. "But first you must tell me what you are
talking about. What is this drug?"
"I have exactly what he wants," Vernon put
in quickly, before Arnington had time to reply.
156


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
"He knows that perfectly well. Don't you, Philip?"
"Yes. I know that."
"And you know the conditions. It rests with you."
Arnington half rose in his chair, holding out his
hands to Vernon in quivering appeal.
"I'm in hell, I tell you," he cried passionately.
"Why do you keep me in torture? I've done all you
want. I've lost my strength and I've well-nigh lost
my reason. I only ask to be left in peace."
The men on either side of him pressed him back into
his chair, where he sat shaking in every limb.
"Calm yourself, Philip," said Vernon firmly.
"Whining won't do you a bit of good. You've been
trying to play me false and you know I won't stand
that."
A sudden excess of rage took hold of Arnington.
He struggled fiercely to free himself from the strong
restraining hands. Sweat started to his forehead.
"Curse you and all your gang," he panted. "You
think there's no fight in me, but I'll be even with you
yet. I've stuck to my bargain so long as it affected
me alone, but I'm damned if you'll use my name to
cover wholesale robbery. You can't beat me. You
can't, I tell you, you can't."
He sank back again exhausted, looking as if he
might collapse altogether. I leaned forward and ad-
dressed myself to Vernon, choosing my words care-
fully.


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
coming out spasmodically. "No, of course not ...
it's absurd . . . you see what I am. ... I used to be
the heir of Arnington. Now I'm nothing but a
wreck of my old self. ... Don't despise me, Dick.
We used to be pals. ... Yes, of course I'm Lord
Arnington. Nobody keeps me here against my will.
I've got no will. Ha, ha! My will has disappeared
long ago in smoke. Funny, isn't it? Devilish funny,
ha, ha! Look.”
He drew back his wide sleeve with a sudden dra-
matic gesture. The lower part of the arm was covered
with the marks of innumerable hypodermic injections.
I examined it in horror-stricken silence.
“You see, he's practically raving already," Vernon
remarked. “Observe for yourself the effects of pro-
longed addiction to drugs-opium—morphine and
others and try to understand the difficulty of the
problem that confronts me.”
Arnington drew his sleeve down again with a
petulant movement, like a child seeking to conceal
something that may be taken from it. His features
were contorted by a spasm of pain, his skin assumed a
grayer hue and quite suddenly he began to weep.
There was something peculiarly horrible in the sight
of the grown man sitting there crying hysterically.
"I... I can stand no more," he moaned.
“You're killing me. . . . Bring me the opium, Sin.
Just a little. . . . A little is all I ask. . . . You've kept
159


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
me on the rack for hours and hours. ... I can't sleep,
and the pain ... the pain. . . ."
In a couple of strides Vernon was round the table
and shaking him roughly by the shoulder.
"Pull yourself together, man," he shouted angrily.
"You know it rests with you. You've got to answer
my questions, and answer them truthfully or, by
heaven, you'll never see a drop of the drug you
need."
"You're going too far," I cried, springing to my
feet. "I'm damned if you're going to torture him in
my presence. Give him an injection of something to
quiet him and call in a good doctor at once. Then
you and I will talk matters over, Mr. Vernon."
His anger vanished on the instant and he turned to
face me with impassive features. Only his dark eyes
had a strange glow in their depths. I could feel the
strength of will and the capacity for evil that lay be-
hind them. It was as though some powerful force
were pressing slowly against me. With a distinct
effort I held my ground and met his gaze squarely. I
knew that I was forcing a very dangerous man.
"I advised you not to interfere," he rapped out.
"Your advice is not acceptable," I retorted. "I am
convinced there is foul play going on. You had bet-
ter realize, Mr. Vernon, that it is time to abandon a
very risky game."
"You are a fool," he said coolly. "I fear that it
160


IN THE HIDDEN BOOM
may be necessary to restrict your activities during the
remainder of this interview."
"Not such a fool as you imagine," I said and
whipped out my revolver. "Put up your hands."
He obeyed without a flicker of the eyelids. Next
moment powerful hands seized me from behind and
the weapon was wrenched from my grasp. I had
acted too hastily and had forgotten the man who stood
so silently before the oaken door.
I fought like a demon, but the butler and the China-
man joined in the tussle and I was quickly over-
powered. I heard Vernon shouting some order and
thought I could distinguish Arnington's voice
answering. The iron hands of my original assailant
were at my throat choking the life from me. I was
forced backwards; a rope appeared and with it I was
firmly bound to the heavy wooden armchair.
When I had sufficiently recovered breath to look
about me, I found that Vernon had resumed his seat
and was regarding me with a pleasantly contemptuous
smile, while Arnington appeared never to have moved
his position.
"I regret these forcible measures exceedingly, Sir
Richard," Vernon observed. "But I warned you.
Besides, you threatened my life, you know."
"You are playing a very risky game," I repeated.
"Ah, you imagine there may be something illegal
about my actions? True I have had to tie you up tem-
161


F RID AT TO MONDAY
porarily but I was amply justified. You threatened
to shoot me in the presence of these witnesses. I fancy
a court of law might see some wisdom in the meas-
ures I have taken."
"Not if that court of law was made aware that you
kept Lord Arnington a drugged prisoner, while you
enjoyed his estates."
He laughed. "My dear sir, that is a ridiculous il-
lusion on your part," he said. "And in any event, you
wouldn't care to publish the fact that Lord Arnington
was a dope fiend. It might reflect on Miss Joan, and
none of us would like that."
I ground my teeth in impotent rage.
"We'll leave Miss Tracy's name out of this, if you
don't mind," I said. "I don't suppose you have had
me bound to this chair merely for the purpose of giv-
ing your servants exercise?"
"Not at all," he replied coolly. "I have some ques-
tions to ask. If they are answered satisfactorily, you
shall go free."
He turned to Arnington, who was sitting rigid
in his chair, his lips tightly closed as though his teeth
were clenched.
"Now, Philip, answer my questions," he ordered.
"What have you done with the string of black
pearls?"
The sudden question made me jump so that the rope
cut into my wrists.
162


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
“I know nothing about them," muttered Arning-
ton hoarsely.
"Come, come, my friend, you're not so dazed as you
pretend to be. You know you removed the box con-
taining the pearls and also certain documents from
this room. No doubt it was mere caprice on your
part. They are worthless to you, but they are of value
to me and I must recover them."
"I know nothing about them," Arnington repeated
doggedly.
Vernon leaned forward and rapped sharply on the
table. “Tut, tut; you must jog your memory a
little,” he said. “You wandered into the hall last
night while ·Sin was asleep?".
No answer.
"You met Sir Richard Montague in the hall last
night?"
"No."
“Didn't you meet him in the hall last night?"
“Yes.”
“Ah! that's better. Did you mention the pearls to
him?"
Arnington sprang into sudden animation.
“No. I tell you I know nothing about them,” he
cried. “And if I did I should tell you nothing-
nothing."
"Why be stubborn, Philip?" Vernon observed,
leaning back in his chair again. “You gain nothing.
163


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Until I find out what you did with those pearls you
may cry in vain for your drug."
He motioned to Sin, said a few words to him in
a low voice, and the Chinaman glided softly from the
room, by the passage leading to the hall.
"You shan't beat me," Arnington muttered.
"Maybe it's caprice or maybe it's my perverted sense
of humor, but you shan't recover the pearls, curse you.
They're not yours."
"Ah, then you did take them!" Vernon cried trium-
phantly.
"No—no—no," cried Arnington, "I know nothing
of them. I've told you all I know. For God's sake,
give me the drug. . . . You're torturing me. ... I
can't stand it."
He turned imploring eyes upon me as I was about
to speak, eyes that begged me to say nothing about
the pearls. I remained silent, wondering if he were
completely crazy, or if there was some reason for his
actions. Why was he so anxious to prevent Vernon
from recovering the pearls?
The Chinaman returned as silently as he had gone,
bearing a small lacquered tray on which was a hypo-
dermic syringe and a little, glass-stoppered bottle con-
taining a brownish liquid. He placed the tray upon
the table and again left the room.
Arnington's eyes fixed themselves greedily on the
little bottle, and he put out a quivering hand towards
164


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
it. But Vernon's fingers closed upon his wrist.
"There you are, Philip," said the latter softly.
"In that little bottle lies peace. You have only to
answer me truly and peace is yours. Come, why
should we not be friends?"
As plainly as though I were witnessing living
actors, I could see the tremendous conflict that was rag-
ing in Arnington's soul. His features were twisted
almost beyond recognition. Sweat stood out on his
brow and trickled down his deathly face. With every
ounce of his remaining will power, he was fighting the
temptation to give in. I watched fascinated and it
came to me in a flash that he was fighting to protect me.
He feared what might happen to me if Vernon was
made certain that the pearls and the document had
passed into my hands. I tugged strenuously and un-
availingly at the bonds that held me. What had hap-
pened to Drew? Fervently I wished I had brought
Mayhew with me or that, tired of waiting, he would
put in an appearance.
"Come, come, you've confessed that you took the
things," Vernon went on. "I only want to know
where they are. Just now you are suffering. You
have been deprived of all drugs for nearly twenty-four
hours. Think what another twenty-four hours would
mean—and perhaps another."
The look on Arnington's face would have been
loathsome if it had not been so pitiable.
i65


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
Vernon stepped back a pace and stood a moment,
syringe in hand, contemplating his victim. Then with
a grunt of satisfaction, he cast the syringe on to the
tray and, seating himself once more, lighted a ciga-
rette.
"We shall have to wait a few minutes," he said to
me. "It is a thankless business attempting to cure
Philip of his bad habits, so I have taken the oppor-
tunity of giving him a different dope that will make
him more amenable to reason and presently send him
to sleep peacefully. It is a kindness after all, don't
you think?"
"I think you are a first cousin to the devil," I re-
torted. "One can only hope that you may fail to
extract the information you appear so anxious to ob-
tain."
"Oh! as to that, I guess I've taken the right course.
If I had pressed him to reveal the whereabouts of the
pearls before letting him have the drug, the chances
are he would have lied to me. But that little bottle
contains a clever preparation of opium and hashish
with one or two other constituents that are sometimes
used in refining Indian bhang. It is a fairly power-
ful and rapid hypnotic and renders the subject easy to
question and facile to the control. Now that I'm sat-
isfied he knows where the pearls are, it should not be
difficult to get him to talk."
I looked at Arnington in utter dismay. His limbs
167


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
had relaxed, and he sat in a huddled attitude with his
chin sunk on his breast. His eyes had lost their fire
and the pupils had contracted almost to pin-point
dimensions. In repose his features looked less hag-
gard and there was a spot of color on either cheek.
Somehow his present passive condition infuriated me
more than his crazy restlessness.
"He certainly seems quieter," I said grimly.
Vernon only smiled and continued smoking his cig-
arette. Several minutes passed in strained silence.
My eyes roved about the room seeking some possible
means of escape. The big man remained statuesque
in front of the door, while the butler stood quietly be-
hind Arnington. What was the Chinaman doing, I
wondered?
Suddenly Vernon crushed his cigarette upon the
lacquer tray and leaned forward with his eyes on
Arnington's face.
"Look at me," he ordered. "You promised to tell
me what you had done with the little box containing
the black pearls and the envelope containing some pa-
pers."
"I intend to keep my promise," Arnington said in
a low monotonous voice, like some one repeating a
lesson.
"Good. What did you do with them when you
took them from this room?"
"I. went into the hall and placed them in an old
168


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
safe concealed in the wainscoting behind the stair-
case. My father used to keep papers there."
"Are they in the safe now?"
"No. I returned to this room and then I got
frightened. I was afraid lest you should find
them."
"What did you do?"
"I returned to the hall. . . ."
"Then?"
Suddenly Arnington put his hands over his eyes.
"My God, what am I doing?" he exclaimed. "I can't
answer you."
"Don't say any more, Philip," I cried.
"Put your hands down," Vernon thundered. "Ah,
that's better. Now, look at me and don't attempt to
lie. After you returned to the hall . . .?"
The other's hands fluttered helplessly. For a mo-
ment he looked at me as though seeking my forgive-
ness.
"I must tell him," he said slowly. "... After I
returned to the hall I removed the things from the safe.
I—I didn't know what to do. I was afraid."
"Then you met Sir Richard Montague?"
"Yes."
"Did you give the things to him?"
"Yes."
"My dear Sir Richard," said Vernon to me, "You
would have saved us a deal of trouble by confessing
169


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
to the transference of this property at an earlier
stage." He turned to the butler.
"Take him away, Grayson; he's almost asleep," he
said, pointing to Arnington, whose eyes were half-
closed. "Give him a hand, Barnes."
The big fellow stepped forward and, lifting the
dazed man between them, he and Grayson half
dragged, half supported him through the oak door-
way into some room beyond whence came a confused
murmuring. A moment later Grayson returned alone,
the door was closed with a sharp click behind him and
he drew the heavy curtain across it.
"Now you and I must have a little talk, Sir Rich-
ard," said Vernon. "Wait here Grayson, I may want
you. Where's Sin? Sin!"
The Chinaman came shuffling down the passage and
stood at the top of the steps, his head bowed, his hands
tucked into his wide sleeves. In the shadows on the
confines of the dim lamplight, he looked somehow huge
and vague like some evil genie called up from the
depths.
"Remain on guard," Vernon ordered. "See that no
one enters the hall."
The Chinaman disappeared.
Vernon drew his chair closer to mine. "I think we
may now talk undisturbed," he observed. "A thou-
sand apologies for the inconvenience to which you have
been put. I shall release you in a few minutes as soon
170


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
as you have told me where to get those things that
Philip so thoughtlessly gave you."
"And if I don't choose to tell?" I asked.
"My dear fellow, such a possibility cannot be con-
templated."
"In other words, you are threatening me. I may
as well tell you, Mr. Vernon, that I have discovered
a good many things concerning you. You don't sup-
pose, for instance, that Lam entirely ignorant of your
career in America, or of the reason why you left that
country?"
It was a shot at random, but it found its mark. He
started perceptibly.
"For the moment you imagine you have me at your
mercy," I went on with all the boldness I could muster,
"but when I told you I was determined to get to the
bottom of this business, I did not mean that I acted
alone. There are others and they are within call."
"Ah! That accounts for the open window," he
said quickly. "As for your observation concerning
America, I can only assume that that wretched journal-
ist may have passed some remark. . . ."
"Mr. Bangs knows more than you suppose," I in-
terrupted.
"Possibly. If he shows face at Arnington Court
again I shall know how to deal with him. . . . Now,
Sir Richard, give me back the pearls and the envelope.
You can have no interest in them."
171


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
I cast about me for some means to gain time. He
was capable of perpetrating almost any devilry and
a cry for help would pass unheeded. If I could post-
pone a direct answer, there was just a chance that
Mayhew or Drew might come to my assistance.
"Your anxiety concerning them doubtless explains
the ransacking of my room and the attack upon me
at the hermit's cave," I said. "Evidently you thought
that if I had them they would be in my pocket. It
was an unfortunate miscalculation."
He smiled pleasantly. "I admit nothing," he said.
"But if you were subjected to any annoyance at the
hands of those who wished to recover the pearls, it
was well merited. After all, the pearls are not
yours."
"Nor are they yours, Mr. Vernon," I said quickly.
"I believe them to be the property of Princess Par-
anoff."
"Princess Paranoff!" he echoed. "Why, that's
ridiculous. I brought those pearls with me from New
York."
"Nevertheless, I intend to allow the Princess an
opportunity of examining them," I said determinedly.
"She has lost a similar string. If she disclaims them
I shall return them to you with full apology."
The mask of geniality dropped from his face. It
grew hard, and his eyes glittered dangerously. Some-
how I thought of a wolf about to spring on its prey.
172


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
"Further argument seems useless," he said. "You
have abused all the privileges of a guest under this
roof. You have interfered in matters that do not con-
cern you, appropriated property that does not belong
to you; you have threatened me with a loaded revolver.
In the circumstances, you can hardly expect to be
treated leniently."
He took up the little bottle and removed the stopper.
"I have here the means to make you talk," he con-
tinued. "You observed the action of the drug upon
a man who has been accustomed to similar drugs in
increasing quantities for many months. In your case
I fancy the effect will be neither less powerful nor
less rapid. Do you prefer to talk of your own free
will, Sir Richard, or must we use the needle?"
He set down the bottle and his slim white fingers
lingered caressingly upon the hypodermic syringe. I
felt the hair rising on my scalp and do what I would
I could not repress a shudder. The scene I had just
witnessed was too fresh in my memory.
"You wouldn't dare!" I gasped.
"And why not?" he queried. "I only protect my-
self against the results of your misguided interference.
I do you no permanent harm. You will soon fall
asleep. To-morrow you will waken much refreshed,
and then we can discuss matters at our leisure. How-
ever, if you prefer to speak now. . . ."
"I'll see you damned first!" I exploded.
173


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
He sprang suddenly to his feet. "You idiot," he
cried. "Grayson, quick, turn back his sleeve."
Grayson approached me with an ugly smile on his
swarthy features. Passing swiftly behind my chair,
he bent down to where my arms were bound behind
my back. I felt him fumbling with my left sleeve
and I began to writhe and twist this way and that in
an endeavor to free myself or alter my position. The
coil of rope impeded him and uttering a curse he
ripped open the sleeve with a pocketknife.
My attempt to struggle free had brought me round
into a position facing the large mirror that filled the
wall on the left of the doorway, and as the blade tore
through the cloth I saw the reflection of the Chinaman
standing immovable at the top of the steps. Some-
thing in his appearance caused me to utter a sharp ex-
clamation.
It was the figure of a Chinaman, but it was not
Sin.
He began to creep noiselessly down the steps.
Vernon and his confederate were too busy with their
preparations to observe his approach. Vernon care-
fully dipped the syringe into the little bottle, withdrew
it and set the bottle down. "I think we shall require
Sin's help," he said. "He knows the exact spot on the
arm for a first operation. Sin, come here."
He spun round, facing the steps leading to the pas-
sage. The Chinaman, who had just reached the foot
174


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
of the steps, threw up his arms, buried his face in his
wide sleeves and, with a wild terror-stricken "Hi-
yah," rushed across the room as though all the fiends
in hell were at his heels.
It all happened in a few seconds. Vernon shouted
something unintelligible, the Chinaman knocked him
to one side, charged into the table and upset the read-
ing lamp with a crash, and the room was suddenly■
plunged in total darkness.
Next moment some one was whispering in my ear
and I could feel the stroke of a knife slashing at my
bonds. The tension of the ropes relaxed, and I tot-
tered to my feet, a free man, only to sprawl across
some article of furniture. The room was filled with
a noisy confusion amidst which Vernon's voice shouted
rapid instructions to Grayson. A revolver shot spat
flame across the darkness, and a bullet sang past my
ear. Another revolver replied, there was a crash and
then a sudden dead silence.
My hand came in contact with one of the heavy
curtains and I clung to it, gasping for breath. There
came the sound of some one feeling about in the dark-
ness, there was a click and an electric lamp glowed in
the roof.
I found myself standing on one side of an over-
turned chair, with Drew, clad in the outer vestments
of the ill-favored Sin, on the other.


CHAPTER XI
IN THE HIDDEN ROOM (Continued)
REW!” I exclaimed.
Without waiting to reply, he bounded
across the room, up the steps and along the
passage. I followed close at his heels. The end of
the passage was blocked by a bare wall of roughly
dressed stone. We pushed against it, but it remained
unyielding.
"They've closed the entrance," Drew said calmly.
“We're nicely caged."
"Wait a bit," I said. The light was dim there in
the passage and feeling in my pocket I produced the
electric torch I had borrowed from Meyhew. The ray
revealed an iron rod working in a slot let into the wall
on one side. I pulled at it and it slid back easily,
but nothing happened. Not a crack showed. The
entrance to the hall remained closed as securely as if
the stone wall had been firmly cemented in upon all
sides.
"It's no use," said Drew. “They don't intend that
we should get out this way—at least, not in the mean-
time. Probably there is some mechanism on the other
lean-
* 176


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
side that puts the lever on this side out of action and
vice versa. The old guys who devised these things
weren't taking any risks."
He turned back, and I followed him into the octag-
onal room again.
"There is another exit," I said. "There's a door
behind that curtain over there. They carried Arn-
ington out that way."
I pulled aside the heavy curtain and uncovered a
paneled wall. "Hullo, that's funny," I exclaimed.
"I could have sworn the door was on this side, I must
be mistaken."
In quick succession I thrust back the other curtains.
Five similar paneled walls appeared. The two re-
maining sides of the room were occupied by the steps
leading to the passage and by the large mirror.
Drew was chuckling merrily. "I guess you were
right first time," he said. "The door's concealed in
the woodwork. It's been left innocent of handle or
keyhole so as to confuse folk like us who are used to
such amenities."
"Now that I think of it, I don't recollect seeing any
handle," I said.
"Good. Then we know where we are. We'd bet-
ter think things over a bit." He divested himself of
the Chinaman's loose outer garments, which he kicked
into a corner, then stood up in trousers, waistcoat, and
shirt sleeves, and, selecting a cigar from a row that
177


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
protruded from his waistcoat pocket, seated himself
on the table.
"You can't object to my smoking this after I've just
rescued you from a humiliating death, Sir Richard,"
he observed, lighting the cigar. "I'm sorry our orig-
inal plan's been exploded, but I think it's all to the
good. Things have moved even faster than one could
have anticipated."
"They have," I assented grimly, seating myself in
an armchair and lighting a cigarette in the vain hope
of counteracting his cigar. "Too fast for my liking.
You arrived just in time. But where on earth did
you spring from and how did you manage to get hold
of the Chinaman's clothes?"
Drew chuckled again. "Well, it was quite a lark,"
he said, blowing a cloud of poison gas towards the
ceiling. "I entered the hall by the French window
as arranged—"
"But Vernon closed it."
"I was in before he closed it."
"Before!"
"Sure. Probably you didn't hear me slip in, but
I was there just the same. I didn't spot you up in the
inglenook, but I saw that the passage was open. I
was just creeping towards it when friend Vernon came
down the stairs. In two blinks of your eye I was in
one of those deep window embrasures, closely identify-
ing myself with a curtain. I dare say Vernon might
i78


IN THE HIDDEN BOOM
have seen me if he hadn't seen you first. Perhaps
the open window made him think I hadn't arrived.
After you all went into the chamber of horrors, I
skipped out of my hidey-hole and listened just inside
the passage. When I realized they were tying you
up I got pretty wild. I slid down the passage and had
a look at the room and wondered if I could organize
a hold-up. I'm a fairly slick shot, Sir Richard; I
guess I could have put a hole in any square inch of
Vernon's anatomy I wanted to puncture, but I had to
reckon with Sin and the butler fellow and the beefy
tough in front of the other door. Besides, I wanted
to see what Vernon's game was. Presently Sin
emerged and I slipped behind my curtain again. I
watched him go by and return with the dope outfit on
a tray. Then I listened to the proceedings again and
when Sin was given the job of watching the hall, I
kissed myself on both cheeks for joy. I hid in the
shadow. Out comes Mr. Sin and looks round. Out
I step and put the barrel of my gun within an inch of
his ugly face. 'The least sound and you'll be dancing
on your own brains,' I whispered, or words to that
effect. Jehoshaphat! I always thought the Chink was
an imperturbable sort of guy, but this one must be too
Europeanized. I gave him his orders and he obeyed
like a performing dog doing his tricks. First, I made
him take off his pants and jumper and slippers, then I
forced him across the hall, made him open the big old
179


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
caged lion and wouldn't have minded roaring my an-
noyance.
"Here we are inactive when every moment may be
of value !” I cried. “We've discovered too much.
Henceforward we'll have to fight in the open-if we're
ever allowed to come out into the open.”
“Certainly we have forced Vernon's hand,” Drew
observed, “but that is all to the good, I think. The
only danger is that they may try to get rid of poor
Arnington now."
“Get rid of him! You mean ...?"
"He's served his purpose and it's dangerous for the
gang to have two Lord Arnington's about at the
same time, considering what we know."
I pondered a moment. Then: "I'm not convinced
yet that you're right about that, Drew," I said. “It's
curious that the bogus Lord Arnington—the man
you call Curtiss—wasn't to be seen to-night when the
real Lord Arnington was to be put to the question
regarding those pearls. Certainly it's difficult to rec-
oncile the vigorous man we've seen by day with that
drugged maniac who sat in the chair there to-night,
but perhaps we've been dealing with the real Lord
Arnington all the time and the whole thing's ex-
plained by Vernon's extraordinary influence over him.”
Drew shook his head. "We'll soon learn the truth
when we get a report on those fingerprints,” he said.
"It's all confoundedly mystifying. Why should
181


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Arnington act so strangely with regard to the
pearls?"
"Perhaps he was a partner with Vernon in the theft
of them and afterwards regretted it," I suggested. "I
must tell you 'what occurred after dinner to-night.
I think it throws some light on Vernon's method of
working." And in a few words I narrated the in-
cidents connected with Mrs. Ponsonby's necklace.
"However the counterfeit necklace was manufac-
tured," I concluded, "I'm certain Vernon had it with
him in the drawing-room and succeeded in exchanging
it for the real one."
"Under the good lady's very nose!" Drew ex-
claimed. "What admirable cheek!"
"At any rate, he shall not get the black pearls nor
his precious document so long as I have any strength
to resist," I declared.
"Probably they may be made the price of our free-
dom," Drew remarked grimly.
Suddenly his whole body grew taut. Then he
sprang across the room and stood listening by the
paneled wall.
"Did you hear anything?" he whispered.
"No," I answered in a low voice. "What was it?"
"A shuffling sound like footsteps. There's some
one or something moving on the other side of the
wall."
I stood beside him and we waited a few moments
182


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
with straining ears, but the sound was not repeated.
"I could swear somebody's there," Drew went on,
speaking just above his breath. "Fools that we were
to talk so loud!"
"You think somebody's been listening?"
"Yes, and watching us too, perhaps."
He turned back to the table and sat down, drum-
ming a thoughtful tattoo with his fingers. I glanced
uneasily about the room. The paneled walls and thick
curtains had suddenly assumed a secretive and sinister
aspect. Had I been alone, I confess that I would
have been thoroughly frightened; as it was, I came
close to Drew, heartily thankful for his companion-
ship.
"That means that they have learned what we know
about Curtiss," I said in a half whisper. "Thank
heaven I didn't reveal the whereabouts of the black
pearls and the documents."
"Thank heaven," Drew murmured. "It may give
us something to bargain with if the worst comes to
the worst. They must see that the game is up now
if we go free, unless"
He paused with knitted brows.
"Unless what?" I asked.
"Suppose the real Arnginton was got rid of; sup-
pose that absolutely no trace of him remained, what
could we do?" Drew went on. "No one would believe
our story."
183


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"The fingerprints"
"That would be just an extraordinary coincidence.
At least it would be presumption in our favor that
could be rebutted by Curtiss insisting that he was the
real and only Lord Arnington. Lord knows, he's
almost letter-perfect by now."
"But there are the jewel robberies."
"That again is an incalculable factor. Suppose, for
example, we are wrong about Alfred Curtiss and it
turns out that Lord Arnington, under the influence
of drugs, or Vernon, or both, is intimately connected
with these robberies, think what exposure would mean
to his friends and relatives."
I nodded. "I see. It makes things very difficult.
At any rate, possession of those pearls and of the
documents may enable us to break up the gang alto-
gether. But we can't sit here with folded hands. I
wonder what's happened to Mayhew?"
"Mayhew! Ah, I forgot about him."
I told him quickly of the plan I had arranged with
Mayhew.
"We must try to get out of this," I cried impatiently
and began prowling round the room examining the
walls.
Drew followed suit, peering and poking, rapping on
the paneling and running his fingers over the moldings.
All the time I had the uncomfortable sensation of being
watched. It was as if some derisive personality were
184


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
scrutinizing our every movement. A few hours more
of this place, I told myself, would drive me crazy.
Suddenly Drew straightened himself and gazed up
at the roof.
"How d'you suppose this damned place is venti-
lated?" he asked.
I swore softly, pointing to the still smoldering stump
of his vile cigar.
"It isn't," I said irritably.
Drew waved my observation aside. "This room is
built into the old Norman keep, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes; partly at least. The old walls are exceedingly
thick. The room is behind the big chimney piece in
the hall; but it must be considerably below the level
of the hall because the passage slopes and then there
are these steps."
"What's underneath? The old dungeons?"
"I believe so."
"Hm! Well, I don't suppose the ventilation, such
as it is, comes up from there."
He stared at the ceiling again, then fetching the
table from the center of the room, placed it against the
paneled wall that concealed the doorway and put a
chair on top of it.
I steadied the chair and he mounted his improvised
ladder, and scrutinized the paneling where it stopped
six inches short of the ceiling.
"Ah! just as I thought," he exclaimed almost im-
185


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
the two walls and from which cracks radiated the
whole length of the mirror.
I thrust a hand into the hole and encountered—
nothing.
"Good lord! there's nothing behind the mirror," I
cried excitedly. "The mirror is the wall."
Drew was by my side peering into the hole as ex-
cited as I. Producing Mayhew's electric torch, I di-
rected the rays into the opening. The shaft of light
struck the surface of a stone wall running at an acute
angle to that formed by the mirror.
"I think we might be able to open the door now,"
Drew said.
He thrust his left arm into the opening until his
shoulder pressed against the wood lining, and I waited
in suspense. Would his fingers encounter some handle
or fastening on the other side of the door by means
of which it might be opened? Had the shattering
glass raised the alarm? Would the enemy be upon
us before we could escape from the room?
The silence was broken by a sudden sharp click
and the door stood open a couple of inches. Even
in the hurry and excitement of the moment I paused
to admire the workmanship; the way in which the
broad lining of the mirror formed the close-fitting
jamb of the doorway and the manner in which the door
itself was hinged in the paneled wall so that its exist-
ence when closed would never be suspected.
188


IN THE HIDDEN BOOM
Cautiously we passed through the door and found
ourselves in a narrow chamber inclosed on three sides
by rough stone walls. After the stifling atmosphere
of the octagonal room, the air seemed infinitely cool
and fresh. Once over the threshold I flashed the light
of the torch all round. The fourth side, from which
we entered, consisted of the embrasure, oriel-shaped,
formed by the three walls of the octagonal room.
These walls made of wood and supported at the angles
by stout oaken beams, obviously of considerable age,
were quite plain at the back and one of them had been
cut away and the large mirror inserted in its place.
At a point just above the level of the mirror top were
the three slits for ventilation that Drew had discovered.
Treading amidst the broken glass we stepped be-
hind the mirror and examined it. It had been let
into a strong framework fixed to the original wall and
the glass was fairly thick.
Suddenly Drew clutched my arm. "Look," he said,
pointing upwards. "That provides at least one reason
for the mirror."
Lifting my eyes I saw a point of light shining in
the darkness somewhere on the upper half of the mir-
ror. I turned the torch upon it and the rays revealed
a tiny circular disk fixed to the back of the mirror
and intended as a shutter to cover a small area of
glass from which the reflecting material had been
removed. The shutter was open and the light
189


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
shone through from the room on the other side.
"A little spy hole," Drew observed. "A person
with his eye glued to that spot could see everything
that went on in the room; also he could hear every-
thing through the ventilator just above his head. See,
here is the means of mounting to his perch."
He indicated a couple of iron rungs set in the stone
wall.
"I think we may take it that our movements inside*
that room were being watched," he continued, "and
the watcher probably overheard everything we said.
If that is so, I can't understand why they are leaving
us to escape in peace."
"We haven't escaped yet," I reminded him. "But
it's obvious that there must be some way out of this
place."
We crossed the narrow chamber and, in the angle
formed by the two walls on the other side, my torch
discovered an opening in the stone floor and the top
of a flight of steps.
There seemed nothing for it but to go on and, after
a hasty examination, we made a cautious descent.
The flight of steps proved short, with a heavy curtain
across the foot and as I drew it aside my hand en-
countered an electric switch. I turned on the light
and we found ourselves in a square room with bare
walls. An exclamation of surprise escaped me. The
place was furnished as a bedroom.
190


IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
began to feel dog tired and fell to shivering in that
cold air.
"We'd better see if Mayhew is at his post." I said.
"We can collect him and get back to the hall by the
terrace. If the door is closed I'll smash a window.
I'm dead sleepy."
Drew laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"You've had a pretty trying time. Let's hope we
are near the end of this business," he said sincerely.
"I've an idea things will move rapidly now, but we
may not have much time to rest."
I grunted an ungenerous reply. Truth to tell I had
more than a sneaking regret that I had ever left my
comfortable quarters in town.
In a thoroughly irritated mood I pushed on, skirt-
ing the shrubbery, and led the way down the carriage
drive.
There was no sign of Mayhew's car, but the fresh
tracks of motor wheels showed up clearly in the sod-
den earth. We followed the tracks round a bend to
the point where the road from the stables joined the
drive. Still no sign of Mayhew or the car. Had he
given us up in disgust and returned the car to the
garage?
Then I caught sight of something on the grass verge.
Calling to Drew I hurried forward. Mayhew was
lying on the grass, bound and gagged so thoroughly
that movement was impossible.


CHAPTER XII
IN THE HALL
TN a few moments Mayhew was free and sat up
gasping and blinking stupidly at us. He was in-
I deed a sorry sight. His collar was torn, his
clothes covered with mud, his hair disheveled, and a
trickle of blood from a nasty cut on the forehead had
dried on his face.
"Thank God you've come,” he said fervently. "I'm
devilish cold and my head is splitting."
"You need a stiff drink and then bed,” I told him
as with my assistance he staggered painfully to his
feet. I introduced Drew, who lent him an arm on
the 'other side, and we turned back towards the house.
As we limped up the drive Mayhew gave some ac-
count of what had befallen him.
"I told you yours was a damned silly plan, Dick,"
he began querulously. "I've had a deuce of a scrap,
useless as it happened, but I fancy I gave about as
good as I got. What happened I don't quite know;
that crack on the head has confused me a bit. I got
the old bus out all right and brought her down here
according to plan. Then I waited. It was devilish
194


IN THE HALL
wet and cold, and I sat cursing you fellows and my-
self alternately. I had noted the time and determined
I would stick it out for a couple of hours as promised.
Under the trees there it was pitch dark and the noise
of the wind prevented one from hearing any other
sound. The two hours passed and I had just got out
of the car to wind up the engine when I saw the lights
of another car coming down the drive. My car was
right in the way and I stepped to one side and gave
a shout. The other car pulled up. Of what happened
after that I've only a confused recollection. A whistle
blew and some one shouted an order. Two or three
figures detached themselves from the other car and
came towards me. Then, before I had time to collect
my thoughts, three men came out of the shrubbery and
closed in on me. I didn't wait for them to begin but
charged immediately. There was the devil of a fight.
I know I hit out right and left and knocked at least
one of the beggars down. Then something got me a
crack on the head and when I recovered I was trussed
up and they were getting ready to drive off."
"Did you recognize any of them?" Drew asked.
"I'll swear Vernon was there. I heard his voice
giving orders. For the rest I couldn't be sure, but I
think I recognized the voice of young Radcliffe."
"Radcliffe!" I echoed in surprise. "I never sus-
pected him. And Philip—Arnington—did you see
him?"
195


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Mayhew shook his head wearily. "No, but it was
all so sudden and confusing, what with the glare of
the lights after the darkness and the crack I got on
the head."
"And your car?"
"They must have taken it with them."
We had reached the terrace and moved now towards
the front entrance. The cold dawn was just breaking,
and the huge pile of Arnington Court stood stark
and dismal in the gray light. One had somehow the
impression of a great somber mansion falling to ruin,
empty save for the lingering shades of the dead. I
felt shivery and dispirited, and Mayhew was obviously
much the worse for the night's adventure.
"It looks as if Vernon had carried off Lord Arn-
ington in the car," Drew said. "That's why he was
in such a hurry and so anxious to avoid interference.
Probably he calculated that with one of us tied up and
the other two prisoners he would have an ample start
and time to cover up his tracks."
"That means he realizes the game is up," I said.
"I don't know," Drew said doubtfully. "So long
as he holds the person of Lord Arnington he holds
a trump card."
"Well, then, I hold a trump card too, in the shape
of the pearls and the envelope," I declared. "I shall
send them to Scotland Yard and explain the whole
circumstances."
196


IN THE HALL
“That would involve Lord Arnington," Drew ob-
served.
"I can't help that,” I said. "If you like I'll entrust
them to you. The case is really in your hands."
We had reached the front entrance, supporting May-
hew between us. He seemed too weary to demand
explanations as to what had befallen us, and in my
present mood I was thankful he did not fire a stream
of questions at me. I perceived that the great double
doors were unfastened. Had Vernon carried off his
victim so hastily that he had taken neither the time
nor the trouble to close them?
We made our way into the hall. It was quite dark
and I pressed one of the electric switches which il-
lumined a single globe near the door. Across the
dimly lighted hall and near the bookcase there stood
a long settle which was usually piled with velvet-
covered cushions. The cushions had been scattered
on the floor and amidst them there lay the figure of a
man.
Dropping Mayhew's arm, I hurried forward and
looked down in speechless astonishment at Lord
Arnington. He was still clad in the pajamas and
loose dressing gown he had worn in the octagonal
room. His face was pale, with a spot of red on either
cheek; his eyes were closed and he lay partly on his
side, breathing heavily. On a stool beside him was a
little lamp that looked as if it had burned itself out.
197


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
An opium smoker's pipe had fallen from his nerveless
fingers.
With Drew's assistance I lifted him on to the sett'e;
then I put a couple of cushions beneath his head and
threw a rug over him. He moved uneasily, muttered
something unintelligible, half opened his eyes then
closed them again and relapsed into heavy slumber.
“What d'you suppose this means?” I queried.
"Why hasn't Vernon carried him off?”
"Hanged if I know," Drew muttered, scratching
his head in perplexity. "This dam' business gets more
and more mysterious.”
Mayhew had picked up the tiny pipe.
"Opium,” he announced and stood looking down at
the sleeper for a moment.
"Poor old Philip,” he murmured. “It's damnable
to see him like this. Best get him up to bed."
He bent down and pressing back one of Arning-
ton's eyelids peered at the eyeball. The prostrate man
stirred restlessly and put up a hand with a muttered
“Don't touch me" as though warding off a blow.
Mayhew desisted and stood up again.
"I can't examine him in this light and my head's
buzzing," he said. "All the same, it's queer."
“What's queer?” I asked.
"His appearance-symptoms-everything. He's
more like a man recovering from a big overdose of
alcohol than of opium. Which reminds me that I
198


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Arnington. "I think I would be justified in breaking
my promises and asking him about them whenever he
wakes. He must explain how they came into his pos-
session."
"They must be real if they belong to the Princess
Paranoff as you suppose." Drew deposited the string
on a little table. "Now, let's have a look at those
papers."
I drew the papers from the envelope. They con-
sisted of about half a dozen sheets of thin foolscap
folded lengthwise.
"You see, there are a whole series of figures ar-
ranged in groups," I said, as I handed the sheets to
Drew. "And then there are a number of designs that
look like a fantastic form of trigonometry."
He looked closely at the sheets.
"Seems interesting," he observed, "but it's impos-
sible to examine them in this light."
He moved away to where a big shaded lamp set
on a carved pedestal stood over against the inglenook.
I followed, and, Drew having switched the lamp on,
we bent our heads over the papers.
We had scarcely commenced our examination when
the sound of an approaching footstep caused us to start,
but it was only Mayhew returning from the study.
He bore a tray with a decanter, syphon, and glasses.
"I've had my drink and feel a bit better," he an-
nounced. "Thought I'd bring something along for
200


IN THE HALL
you fellows. Hullo! What are you doing over
there?"
I explained, and depositing his burden he came
across to the lamp. We crowded into the circle of
bright light and scrutinized the sheets that Drew
spread out.
The first was headed with the letters "P. pearls"
underlined, then followed a variety of figures evidently
arranged on the decimal system.
"Why, it's as clear as day," Drew exclaimed in a
minute. "This is a detailed description of the Paran-
off pearls. These figures refer to the size, weight, and
gradation. There are one hundred and twenty-five
groups of figures representing, probably, each of one
hundred and twenty-five stones on the string, arranged
in the order of gradation. Each group contains the
measurements of the particular pearl, made in milli-
meters, I expect, with some kind of micrometer, and
the weight in grains."
"I never thought of that. But what purpose would
be served by recording such a minute description?" I
queried a little densely.
"Don't you see, these measurements must have been
made before the pearls were stolen," said Drew.
"They were made for the purpose of preparing as ex-
act a replica as possible. The thief takes something
worth thousands and leaves in its place a counterfeit
worth a few pounds. With any luck, the owner of
201


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
the jewels does not discover the exchange at all or only■
does so after the thief has had ample time to dispose
of the goods without being suspected. A very ingeni-
ous scheme."
"Of course; and that would account for Vernon's
anxiety to recover the pearls," I said eagerly. "He
must have known that the theft had been discovered."
The next sheet, to judge from the heading, evidently
referred to some piece of jewelry which contained
both diamonds and emeralds. There were a variety
of geometrical designs and a confusing mass of figures
recording weights and measurements.
"This one is difficult to follow without knowing the
original piece of jewelry," Drew commented. "But
the plan adopted is evidently the same. I should say
this represents a much more complicated piece—prob-
ably a brooch or a cluster."
"And the drawings represent a large-scale plan of
the design and also of the setting," I suggested.
Drew nodded approval. "Undoubtedly, and in
particular the cutting of each stone," he said. "To
produce a reliable counterfeit of a large cut stone
you would need to have an accurate record of the
facets."
We turned to the third sheet and found to our sur-
prise that, like the first, it was headed "P. pearls" and
had little groups of figures arranged in the same man-
ner. But the figures were quite different. We gazed
202


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
help. My name is Drew. I rather think that your
father may recollect my presence in New York."
I thought she grew a shade paler and that her eyes
wavered. Then she turned to me.
"What does this mean, Sir Richard?" she asked.
I was about to reply when my eye fell upon the little
table between the end of the settle and the open book-
case.
"Look," I cried to Drew. "The pearls. They've
gone."
The table on which Drew had laid the string lay
bare and empty. My first thought was that the girl
had taken them. But no; that was impossible. I had
watched her every movement from the staircase to
Arnington's side. Then who? Even allowing for
our absorbed interest in the papers, we must have heard
the sound of anybody entering the hall. My gaze
shifted to Arnington. His head lay on the cushions
at the end of the settle near to the bookcase. It would
only be a question of raising himself slightly and
stretching out his arm . . .
As I looked at Arnington, he stirred, opened his
eyes and sat up. Next moment his hands were shield-
ing his face from the light.
"My God!" he muttered. "My eyes! I can't stand
the light. Is that you, Pauline? Where am I?"
The girl turned instantly and laid a soothing hand
on his brow, with a gesture of tenderness. He
204


IN THE HALL
fumbled in the pocket of his dressing gown and pro-
ducing his tinted eyeglasses, placed them in position
with shaking fingers. Then he pushed the girl very
gently to one side and looked all round.
"Ah! that's better," he said more firmly. "Now I
can see clearly and my head's clearing too. Why, it's
you Dick! What are we all doing here?"
"I have already asked these gentlemen for an ex-
planation," Pauline Vernon put in. "There is a
stranger here who says his name is Drew and who
must explain his presence." She turned sharply upon
Drew. "In case you may think I am unduly inter-
fering, Mr. Drew, I should explain that I am engaged
to be married to Lord Arnington."
"But I thought ..." I began, then stopped help-
lessly.
Drew stepped forward and bowed. "I congratulate
you, Miss Vernon;" he said ironically. "Your rela-
tionship to Lord Arnington will make you all the
more anxious to clear up this mystery. It is only
right to tell you that I have a commission from the
criminal investigation department of the New York
police to pursue certain inquiries with regard to your
father."
She surveyed him coldly a moment. "I'm obliged
for your candor, Mr. Drew," she said. "I know of
no reason why you should persecute my father with
your attentions unless the mystery to which you
205


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
refer concerns his influence over Lord Arnington.
For"
"Don't say anything," Arnington interrupted,
clutching at her hand. "It has all been my fault."
She ignored the interruption and continued. "For
some months now I have been aware that Lord Arn-
ington took drugs from time to time and I feared that
my father and his Chinese servant encouraged the
habit. I have striven to cure him, as you can readily
imagine, but something occurred last night which I
do not yet understand. It seems that my father has
quarreled with Lord Arnington. He came to me
and told me we must leave Arnington Court at once.
I dressed, then when I discovered that he had broken
with Lord Arnington finally, I refused to go until I
had seen my fiance. Mr. Vernon has gone. When
I heard voices in the hall, I came down to find that
Lord Arnington had been drugged again and that
you were evidently examining some private papers.
I have been frank with you, Mr. Drew, and I think
you owe me an equal candor in return."
Her statements staggered me. So she knew that
Philip took drugs? Was she telling a pack of lies?
Mayhew was evidently as puzzled as I. He had mixed
himself another drink and subsided wearily in a chair,
muttering incoherent exclamations and running his
fingers perplexedly through his hair. Drew, on the
other hand, listened with calm politeness and I could
206


IN THE HALL
see he was watching Arnington rather than the girL
"First, I have one or two questions to put to Lord
Arnington, if he's feeling a little better," he said tet-
her. "I don't mind repaying your candor, however.
I believe that a certain man who is known to me and
who bears a remarkable resemblance to Lord Arn-
ington has been masquerading as Lord Arnington
until yesterday. I took the opportunity of obtaining
his fingerprints by means of a little ruse, and I hope
that when these have been investigated at Scotland
Yard, I shall prove right in my belief."
The effect of his statement was remarkable. Pau-.
line Vernon shrank back as though she had received
a blow, while Arnington half started to his feet.
"It—it isn't possible," the girl cried.
Arnington suddenly burst into wild laughter..
"What's this fellow talking about, Dick?" he appealed
to me excitedly. "Is he going crazy, or am I? What
has happened to-night? Ah! I am beginning to re-
member." He picked up the little pipe from the floor
where Mayhew had cast it. "I must have had a whiff
of this; it usually clears my brain after—after— My
God! I remember now. Vernon had us both in that
room. He wanted the pearls and the envelope, but I
refused to tell him I didn't tell him, did I, Dick?
You have them safe. Where are they? You must
give them to me. . . ."
He paused breathlessly. He looked almost un-
207


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
canny, sitting there hunched up in the big dressing
gown, the growing daylight combining with that of
the electric light to tinge his pallid face a ghastly hue.
"I have given the envelope with the papers to Mr.
Drew," I said steadily. "We were examining them
a few minutes ago when Miss Vernon appeared. Just
before that the pearls were placed on the table beside
you. Now they are gone."
"Gone!" he shrieked. "You must find them, Dick.
They're mine I tell you."
"Perhaps you took them from that table yourself,
Lord Arnington," Drew suggested calmly. "You
were half asleep, recovering from the effects of the
drug and you may have taken them—unconsciously,
shall we say? Suppose we look in your pocket?"
"It's impossible!" Arnington exclaimed, "quite im-
possible—yet—Good heavens! perhaps you may be
right. Sometimes—I—I don't know what I'm do-
ing.
He began feverishly turning out the pockets of his
dressing gown, pulling the linings out. They were
empty. With a grim smile Drew assisted him in his
search, examining the inside of the dressing gown as
though seeking a concealed pocket. Arnington got
up and they searched eagerly among the cushions.
It was a somewhat ludicrous performance, yet I was
certain that the pearls would be found in Arnington's
possession. In this expectation I was utterly disap-
208


IN THE HALL
pointed. The pearls were nowhere to be found.
Arnington sat down again with his face in his hands,
the picture of despair, while Drew stood back with a
puzzled frown. Presently, Arnington raised his
head and peered at me through his glasses.
"I must trust you now, Dick," he said. "In an-
other hour or so when the effect of that little pipe
wears off I'll be in hell and in no position to explain
matters. What Pauline says is true. I've been tak-
ing drugs. It began six months ago when I couldn't
sleep. I told Vernon about it and he arranged with
my Chinese valet to fix me up. Since then things
have been going from bad to worse. My God, if you
only knew how intolerable the craving is at times.
Then I discovered that Vernon was preying upon my
weakness. He fixed up that secret room 'as a den
where I could hide myself. Under the influence of
the drugs he's been giving me, I've been like a child
in his hands. I've given him money, valuables—I've
signed away half my birthright to him. I would have
broken with him long ago but for the fact that I
wanted to marry Pauline. I hoped with her help to
break the habit and rid myself of Vernon's influence."
"But the pearls, Philip, how did they come into your
possession?" I asked as he paused a moment. "Why
did you hand them over to me?"
"I'm coming to that," he went on. "The pearls are
mine. They are part of the Arnington collection and
209


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
very valuable. You ought to remember that, Dick.
It was Vernon who first suggested to me the idea that
I should have the more valuable pieces copied. He
brought a skilled man over from New York to super-
vise the job. His game was to steal the originals
from me under the pretence of having them copied.
When I did come to suspect him I had fallen under
his influence. You can't realize how I .feared him.
He got possession of some of the family collection,
but not the pearls. I wanted the pearls for Pauline
but I was afraid to give them to her in case her father
should find out I hid them with the designs and
measurements contained in that envelope. He was
very angry and used all sorts of threats, but I refused
to reveal their whereabouts. For weeks past I have
been on the point of breaking down altogether. I was
half-crazed with drugs when I met you in the hall and
the idea came to me to confide them to your keeping.
The rest you know. Your intervention has put
Vernon to flight. Heaven knows he may have lined
his pockets at my expense, but he has at least left me
—Pauline."
His voice had died away in a hoarse whisper and
he seized the girl's hand and kissed it. It was with a
confusion of thoughts and feelings that I listened to
his extraordinary story. It was told with such sin-
cerity and feeling that my inclination was to believe
what my reason told me was almost incredible. Was
210


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
overwrought," he said. "I don't know what drugs
you've been imbibing, but you'd better let me examine
you. I might be able to prescribe something. . .
"Don't touch me," cried Arnington furiously. "I
want my pearls and those papers. Montague has no
right to keep them. Am I to be attacked and insulted
in my own house?"
"I think you'd better leave him just now, Captain
Mayhew," said Pauline Vernon quietly but firmly.
"He ought to go to bed. I'll try to rouse one of the
men."
In a couple of swift steps she reached and pressed
an electric bell on the wall. I had taken Drew on one
side and suggested to him that we might give Arn-
ington back the papers. He remained adamant.
"We must have them examined and verified," he
insisted. "We can't afford to let a valuable piece of
evidence like this slip out of our hands."
"But it means implicating Lord Arnington, who,
after all, is one of my oldest friends," I pointed out.
"I give you my word it won't implicate Lord Arn-
ington except very indirectly," he said earnestly.
"You must trust me a little longer."
He turned to the settle again. "I'm sorry I can-
not give you these papers just now, Lord Arning-
ton," he said firmly. "If I find that they refer, as
you say, to your family jewels, I shall return them
with my most humble apologies."
212


CHAPTER XIII
SUNDAY MORNING
INSTANTLY the explanation of Drew's an-
nouncement came to me.
"You mean—it's the other one, the man you
call Curtiss?" I cried.
"Yes. The part was well acted, but just a little
overacted," Drew replied calmly. "I fancy that only
one who has studied the actor's profession as I have
could have spotted that it was acting."
"Hang it all, I was certain the man wasn't drugged,"
Mayhew burst out. "If he were shamming, that
would explain his refusal to let me examine him. But
there's a devil of a lot to explain yet."
"I guess there is," Drew nodded. "I want time
to figure things out. I haven't proved even to myself
that the fellow is masquerading, and we mustn't make
a false move now."
"Then what do you propose?" I asked.
"Bed," he said laconically. "Weary men can't
think clearly." He picked up his hat. "This gang
means to make a big fight," he added. "I'll get some
sleep and come over here about midday. You fellows
had better tum in now."
215


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
There seemed no doubt about the wisdom of his ad-
vice. The growing daylight was already wiping out
the shadows in the far corners of the big hall. I ac-
companied him to the door where he stood a moment
sniffing the chill air.
"There is one thing puzzles me almost as much as
the Arnington mystery," I told him. "I can't un-
derstand why you're doing all this, Drew. What do
you gain? You say you are a free-lance, and it must
be an expensive form of amusement."
"I don't need to work for money at present," he
answered, "and a fellow like me has no use for amass-
ing wealth. You ask what I gain? Well, I hope to
gain kudos. But mostly I gain adventure, which I
love."
"You are certainly getting your fill of it," I said.
"Personally, I'm sick of adventure."
He departed chuckling and I closed the double doors
behind him. Then I mixed myself a stiff drink and,
following Mayhew, went off to seek rest. Within
ten minutes I had tumbled into bed.
I awoke vigorous and refreshed by fully six hours
of sound slumber. When I entered the breakfast
room, keen and hungry, the clock on the mantel piece
was chiming eleven. Saunders, the manservant, was
in attendance. He helped me to bacon and poured out
216


SUNDAY MORNING
my coffee. He seemed a stolid, gooànorning. I saw
fellow.
"Good morning, Saunders," I venturedaid quietly.
Lord Arnington to-day?”
or some-
"He's gone, sir," was the somewhat startling
“He left about nine-thirty. He asked me to give yv.
this note, sir."
I tore open the envelope he handed me and looked
at Arnington's neat, characteristic writing.
DEAR Dick,
I want to apologize most humbly for all that has
happened under my roof. I shall make due amends.
Unfortunately, I have been called away on business,
but expect to return Sunday night or, at latest, Mon-
day morning. Meantime, will you and Brian Mayhew
make yourselves entirely at home?
ARNINGTON.
"Has Captain Mayhew come downstairs yet?” I
queried.
"No, sir. He breakfasted in bed," was the prompt
answer.
"And Miss Joan?"
"Breakfasted about an hour ago, sir."
I buttered some toast meditatively, wondering just
how much the stolid Saunders knew.
"And Miss Vernon?” I asked.
"She left in the car with his lordship, sir."
217


SUNDAY MORNING
and Pauline left in the small car this morning. I saw
them drive off."
"A great deal has happened, Joan," I said quietly.
"I'm afraid you'll have to prepare yourself for some-
thing of a blow."
"You can tell me the worst,'" she said quickly.
"Anything is better than this suspense. I heard
strange noises and the sound of people talking soon
after dawn this morning. I tried to come downstairs,
then found my door was locked from the outside."
"You were locked in your room!" I exclaimed.
"The scoundrels weren't taking any chances."
"I think you should tell me everything you know,
Dick," she went on. "There's no use trying to dis-
guise the fact that something terrible has happened in
which Philip is concerned. I'd rather not be left to
indulge in wild conjecture."
"I fear a good deal of what has been discovered is
based on conjecture," I said gently. "Still I feel you
ought to be told all I know." ■
She sat down beside me and listened quietly enough
while I narrated shortly my meeting with Drew and
what had taken place subsequently. The suggestion
that the man who had been acting as our host was
some one who was masquerading as her brother did
not occasion the surprise I had suspected.
"Oh, I hope you are right," she burst out. "I hope
it's true."
219


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"But why?" I asked in amazement.
"Because, strive how I would against it, I have felt
an ever growing hatred of the man who passes himself
off as my brother,” she explained. “There was some-
thing about him, something beneath the surface I
couldn't understand, but which I was coming to loathe
and detest. Such a feeling where Philip was con-
cerned gave me many hours of worry, Dick. But
where can Philip be? What have they done with him?
It is terrible to think of his taking drugs."
"I'm waiting Drew's arrival this morning to decide
upon our next move," I said.
The door opened and Saunders entered.
“Beg pardon, sir, but there's a gentleman waiting
for you in the hall,” he announced. “He's been here
some time.”
I jumped up at once and went with Joan to the hall.
There we found Drew, spruce and fresh, seated at a
table on which lay his little traveling chessboard with
a number of pieces in position.
"Morning, Drew, I didn't know you were waiting."
He nodded without replying. “Pawn to knight
four," he mumbled to himself. “No, idiot, that lets
black intervene with a check. It must be the bishop."
"I think you might lay your chess problem aside
for the moment, Drew," I suggested.
"Oh, good morning, Sir Richard,” he said, looking
up at me. "This ought to be a simple three-mover,
220


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
handed me back the note. "That letter, which you
swear is in Lord Arnington's own handwriting, may
modify my theory to some extent, but it don't bust
it. My idea is this—Vernon and his gang are near
the end of their tether, but they determine to make a
last desperate effort to save themselves. Dangerous
evidence in the shape of the black pearls and the en-
velope containing diagrams and measurements of other
jewels have fallen into your hands. They think that,
as Lord Arnington gave you the pearls and envelope,
you will return them to him on demand. And so the
stage is set in the hall and we think we have stumbled
across the real Lord Arnington in a drugged condi-
tion, whereas we are in fact dealing with a scoundrel
of an actor of remarkable ability. While we are ab-
sorbed in scrutinizing the papers, he quickly pockets
the pearls—quite simple and the only reasonable ex-
planation of their disappearance."
"But we couldn't find them in his possession," I ob-
jected. "And he showed himself quite willing to be
searched."
"You bet he did," Drew laughed. "By that time
Miss Vernon had the pearls concealed on her person.
She ran downstairs, you remember, and reached the
settle in front of us. When she bent over her slum-
bering lover he slipped the pearls neatly into her hands.
An excellent idea; for he calculated that even should
we suspect the transfer we could never ask the girl to
222


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Curtiss had blue eyes, I prove beyond reasonable doubt
that the present Lord Arnington is an impostor. I
was quite ready for an attempt to relieve me of those
papers by force."
"Was such an attempt made after you left the
house?" I asked.
"Sure thing. I had almost a five-mile tramp back
to Chipping Eden. I had that envelope in my pocket,
and I had revealed myself to Curtiss. You may lay
a hundred dollars to a nickel he hadn't forgotten his
old actor friend, Drew. Consequently, I looked out
for trouble and I spotted a movement behind the hedge
a little bit ahead. Well, a country road's not a pop-
ulous place at dawn on a spring morning and I hadn't
a doubt that an ambush was waiting me. So I left
the road and took to the fields. Almost at once there
was a shot, but the fellow who fired that gun had got
up too early. He was joined by a friend and we had
what you might call a running fight across the fields
and down the hill. I did most of the running. The
landlord at the inn had given me a key for the door
and I got safely to bed."
He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "This
morning I peeped out of the window to find one of my
pursuers cooling his heels across the way. I secured
an envelope the same size as the one containing the
papers, put a piece of folded newspaper in it, addressed
it to Detective-Inspector Brook of the C. I. D., stamped
224


SUNDAY MORNING
On seeing us he pulled up short.
"Where is she?" he gasped, looking from one to
the other of us, anxiety written plainly on his boyish
face. “Damnation! she hasn't gone?”
“Who?" I asked.
“Pauline Pauline Vernon."


CHAPTER XIV
AT THE SIGN OF "THE THREE BELLS”
HE left here this morning in a car, with Lord
Arnington,” I said.
"Gone-with-with Lord Arnington!” Rad-
cliffe gasped. He waved clenched fists in the air
uncomfortably near my face; then suddenly he sub-
sided in a chair and buried his head in his hands.
“Come, come, Radcliffe," I urged, shaking him by
the shoulder. “Explain what's wrong. You've a
good deal to explain, you know."
He looked up with an expression of agony twist-
ing his handsome features. For a moment I won-
dered whether he was about to burst into tears or blas-
phemies.
"I—I suppose you've found out," he said at last.
“How much have you discovered ?"
"Enough to implicate you in a serious criminal con-
spiracy, young man,” Drew put in.
Radcliffe shook his head wearily. “I don't care
what you may know," he said. "She's gone. I'm too
late. Nothing else matters.”
He sprang to his feet and began pacing agitatedly
228


“THE THREE BELLS”
to and fro. “I've been a damned fool,” he cried. “I
trusted her. She led me into this, she-My God! I
loved her and she's let me down. To think she's
gone off with that swine- "
“Curtiss," Drew suggested.
The boy stopped in his walk. “So you know
that?” he asked, more quietly.
"Yes. I think you should make a clean breast of
it, Mr. Radcliffe.”
He eyed us furtively a moment, a hunted look on
his face. Then he seemed to take a decision.
"Well, who cares!” he said. “They've used me as
a cat's paw. Pauline toonyes, by heaven, Pauline
too."
“Tell us all about it-Tommy," Joan's soft voice
and her use of the familiar name had its instant effect.
He flung himself into a chair and we all sat down ex-
pectantly.
"I don't know what you'll think of me, Joan," he
went on. “I can't excuse my conduct, though I can
try to explain it. I was always a reckless sort of devil
and the experiences of the War didn't help. It was
just after I was demobilized that I got in touch with
Mr. Vernon. I've no people, I'd piled up debts, and he
helped me out of my difficulties. He wanted a flying
man to assist in experimental work that a certain
Professor Xavier was going to carry on in England.
Then I met Pauline. From the very first I fell in
229


"THE THREE BELLS"
but I was aware that he had provided money for
Xavier's experiments. Well, the result was I found
myself established at Arnington Court and I became
in effect the connecting link, or, as we might put it,
the liaison-officer, between the Court and Xavier. I
carried dispatches and instructions and several times
—stolen jewelry. I had to make occasional aeroplane
trips to France or Belgium, but Xavier's head mechanic
is a pretty fair pilot and Lord Arnington himself
had also learned to fly."
"Arnington!" I exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes, I taught him—that is, the man I believed to
be Lord Arnington. . . . The scheme that Xavier
and Vernon had devised was to steal valuable jewels
and other objects of intrinsic worth, by substituting
for them, unknown to the owner, fairly good counter-
feits. The beauty of the scheme was that the owner
would not suspect his or her loss for some time—
perhaps never—and Xavier's agents would have ample
opportunity to dispose of the spoil without interfer-
ence." He burst into an odd laugh. "Why, there's
more than one society woman moving around to-day
wearing what she fondly supposes to be the family
jewels, the cash for which has long since gone to swell
Xavier's bank account.
"At first I didn't understand how the substitution
business was worked until I realized that the victims
and prospective victims were all friends of Lord Arn-
231


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
ington. He entertained lavishly, gave large house
parties. It was only a question of borrowing the re-
quired piece of jewelry for a short time during the
day, to enable the necessary weights and measurements
to be noted by a skilled man. Then the counterfeit
was carefully made and on the next opportunity—it
might be months and months afterwards—the false
jewels would be substituted for the real. So you see
that Lord Arnington's position and influence was
necessary, first, to secure for Xavier and the gang im-
munity from disturbance and, second, to provide
simple access to society people likely to possess valu-
able jewels. I came to the conclusion that Lord Arn-
ington himself must be in the business up to the neck."
"But Philip—my brother couldn't lend himself to
such a plan. It's unthinkable!" Joan exclaimed.
"I'm coming to that. I thought it mighty strange
that a man of Lord Arnington's wealth and position
should join hands with a gang of scoundrels. I
couldn't see any motive. Then, about three weeks
after I got to Arnington Court, I learned the truth
from Pauline herself. There was, so to speak, a con-
spiracy within a conspiracy. The man who passed
himself off as Lord Arnington was an impostor
whose real name was Curtiss, and who bore a remark-
able resemblance to Lord Arnington. It seems that
the real Lord Arnington had contracted drug habits
in America and that he fell into the hands of Vernon
232


"THE THREE BELLS"
and his gang. His drug taking was encouraged until
he lost—or appeared to have lost—all other interest
in life. Even before the title fell vacant, the devilish
scheme was devised whereby Curtiss should represent
the new peer, enjoy the wealth of the estate and use
his position to further Xavier's plan for despoiling
English society of its jewels. The cooperation of the
real Lord Arnington was to some extent necessary.
For months Curtiss studied the man he was to imper-
sonate. Arnington was brought to England and
kept virtually a prisoner, and his craving for drugs
was used as a lever to extort from him all necessary
information with regard to his former life. He was
thus at hand to supply information, write letters to dic-
tation, and sign checks and documents."
"Then the two letters I have received were both
written by the real Lord Arnington?" I put in.
"Very probably. I'm telling you only what Pauline
imparted to me after I came to Arnington Court.
But I saw where the scheme was leading. Every week
Curtiss was falling more easily into his role. Until
he became letter-perfect, the presence of Lord Arn-
ington was necessary. But in Arnington's continued
presence lay the danger to the whole scheme. It's true
that he was kept carefully concealed under drugs and
with that Chink as watchdog. At times when Arn-
ington Court was full of guests, he would be removed
elsewhere for safety—probably to Xavier's. But the
'"233


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
this old mansion? I must get through to Inspector
Brook of the C. I. D. at once and put him wise about
this Silwell Hall."
The thought of definite and decisive action had
a cheering effect on us. We all seemed to get busy
at once. For myself I longed to get to grips with
the mysterious and sinister Professor and break
up his diabolical organization forever. The question
was, would we be in time to save Philip from the
awful fate that threatened him?
Drew hurried away to the telephone while I rushed
upstairs to Mayhew. He was still in bed with an
aching head and a touch of fever. He brightened up
wonderfully, however, when I narrated what had hap-
pened and was for jumping out of bed and hurrying
into his clothes. With difficulty I persuaded him to
remain where he was. In his present condition he
was liable to be a handicap rather than an asset, and,
in any event, it was essential that some one whom we
could trust should remain at Arnington Court to
watch any developments and look after Joan. After
some argument he agreed to remain at the Court and,
promising to telephone any news, I hurried down-
stairs again to find Joan waiting for me in the hall.
She was dressed for motoring.
"But you can't come with us, Joan," I exclaimed.
"I must come," she said firmly.
"It wouldn't be safe. There may be danger. May-
238


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
soon manifested themselves as we quickly left Arn-
ington Court behind.
"I find that both Lord Arnington's cars are gone,'"
Drew vouchsafed. "Vernon must have used the
limousine and Curtiss has gone off with the girl in
the light touring car."
I told him of my promise to telephone any news to
Mayhew.
"You won't fulfill that promise," Drew chuckled.
"I put the telephone at Arnington Court out of ac-
tion as soon as I was through with it."
"Good heavens, whatever for?" I asked.
"Why, you don't suppose the whole gang has cleared
out," he replied. "You may take it that as soon as
we left, some spy at Arnington Court would rush to
the 'phone to warn Vernon and the Professor. As it
is, we ought to arrive as a surprise party."
At Chipping Eden we dropped the chauffeur at the
inn, explained to the landlord (who owned the car)
that we wanted the hire for a couple of days and I
gave him a couple of five pound notes to account.
Any doubts he might have had were sufficiently allayed
by the presence in the car of the Hon. Joan Tracy.
Meanwhile Drew dived into the inn, settled his bill
and appeared with his black bag.
"Be careful of that little bag," he said. "It con-
tains an extra Smith and Wesson gun. It also con-
tains my make-up outfit."
240


"THE THREE BELLS"
"You anticipate further disguise?" I queried.
"I don't know yet," he answered, buttoning up his
coat. "I must have it in case of need. Both Vernon
and Curtiss know me by now, and they know I've got
those papers. The post office was broken into this
morning while the postmistress was at church. That
means they've triumphantly secured my news sheets
addressed to Inspector Brook. But please don't tell
me I merely disguise or merely act, Sir Richard. One
ought to forget he is acting a part and should persuade
himself that he is in fact the person he pretends to
be."
With that, he mounted in front beside Radcliffe,
took the wheel and the next moment we were off on an
enterprise that came within an ace of costing me my
life. I don't remember much about that journey ex-
cept that Drew drove skillfully and at a prodigious
pace over long stretches of rain-soaked road, soared
up hills like a bird, rushed down them like an ava-
lanche and flashed through towns and villages, scatter-
ing pedestrians and dogs. It was a gray, stagnant
day with an almost continuous fine, wetting rain.
Fortunately, however, the wind had dropped altogether
and we were able to make good progress. Practically
nothing was said. I think we were all obsessed with
the grim task before us, wondering if we would ar-
rive too late—all except Radcliffe, that is. He was
thinking of Pauline Vernon, I fancy, and still cling-
241


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
ing to a faintly expressed hope of dragging her from
the arms of his rival. In the back of the car, Joan and
I exchanged few words, but she put her little gloved
hand trustingly in mine.
Occasionally, we stopped to make inquiries with a
view to ascertaining whether a car with two persons
answering to the description of Curtiss and Pauline
Vernon had passed that way. It was at a roadside
inn that we first struck a definite trail. A car answer-
ing to that very description had stopped for petrol.
They had evidently had engine trouble and had left
only an hour before we arrived.
As soon as we learned this, we were off again, faster
than ever. It was plain that Curtiss was making for
Silwell Hall, and there was a good chance that the
Professor and Vernon would take no definite action
before he arrived there. If he had more trouble with
his engine we might catch him up before he reached
his destination and the fact that he could not know
we were pursuing him would be of great assistance
to us. We picked up further evidence of his prog-
ress that showed we were overhauling him, but drove
into the little village of Silwell-by-the-Marsh without
having sighted the quarry.
Darkness had fallen as we passed up the narrow
street of quaint old houses, many of them with
thatched roofs of red and plaited straw in accordance
with East Anglican tradition—a darkness that was
242


"THE THREE BELLS"
made blacker by reason of a chilly mist that hung
clammily above the marshland and extended out to sea.
Drew pulled up at the last house where inquiry elicited
the information that the narrow road continued
straight on to the fishing hamlet of Silwell-on-Sea
which was situated about a mile distant on the coast
amidst crumbling cliffs. Halfway to the fishing vil-
lage, there was, we were told, a hostelry named "The
Three Bells" where a road led off to the left to Sil-
well Hall.
After a hasty discussion, we arranged our plan of
campaign. It was agreed to split forces for the mo-
ment. I was to take Joan and the car to the inn and
then proceed to Silwell Hall and boldly demand an
interview with Professor Xavier. Drew was to get
the lie of the land from Radcliffe and, having recon-
noitered the enemy camp, was to watch the house and
await me near the gates. Radcliffe refused to take
any active part in the proceedings beyond searching for
Pauline. Clearly, he must not be seen in our company,
for the gang would then be warned that it had been
betrayed, and we had perforce to rely on his assurance
that he would do or say nothing to hinder our plan.
Within a few hours Inspector Brook and his men were
expected to arrive in answer to Drew's call.
We drove slowly along the uneven road towards
Silwell-on-Sea, with the mist curling and writhing
away from our head lights, and came to the fork in the
243


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
road. Here Drew and Radcliffe descended and melted
away into the murk, while I took the former's place
at the wheel. It seemed but a few yards further on
that a faint light struggled through the shrouding mist
and took shape as'a curtained window in a long, two-
storied house. I pulled up at the door above which
I could just distinguish an ancient signboard, cracked
and discolored, that bore the picture of three bells.
The place was no more than a rough wayside tavern,
part public house, part farm (to judge from the grunt-
ing of pigs somewhere at the back), but it promised
shelter and warmth for Joan and a shed in which to
put the car. A tug at the rusty bell pull was answered
after a time by the opening of the door on creaky
hinges, and a man stood silhouetted against the light
from the passage behind.
"Are you the landlord here?" I queried.
"I am, sir," he replied in a curiously grating voice.
"What d'ye want?"
"I want a sitting room with a fire and a clean bed-
room for this lady," I said. "Have you also a shed
where I can garage my car for the night?"
"There's an empty stable." He hesitated. "It's
Sunday night, you know, and getting late. I'll do
what I can."
He ushered us into a small lobby where a smoky
lamp gave a dim light. Beside it was a candle in a
brass holder to which he put a match.
244


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
There was a shed on the left which proved to be
empty and, after opening the double doors, I ran the
car in and closed the doors again. I was in the act
of recrossing the yard when a queer metallic sound
caught my ear, from somewhere behind the inn.
Quickly I made my way to the back of the building
and rounding the corner came upon a stable yard where
the cowshed and piggeries were evidently situated.
In the middle of the yard there stood a gray touring
car. The bonnet was open and a man was bending
over it with an electric lamp in one hand and a tool
in the other, engrossed in tinkering with 'the engine.
With a cold shock of surprise, I recognized Garcia,
the Cuban chauffeur, who had driven me to Arn-
ington Court on Friday.


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
from the table in front of him and held it aloft in the
lamplight. It was the string of black pearls.
For a full minute I stood watching, hesitating as
to the best course to pursue. To break in upon them
would simply warn them and might be fatal to the
success of our enterprise, while it was unlikely they
would suspect that Joan was a guest in the same inn.
On the other hand it was important that I should reach
Silwell Hall ahead of them. Very likely the Profes-
sor was holding his hand until Curtiss arrived to re-
port on the situation, and I calculated that even
fifteen minutes of a start would be of immense value
to me.
Without more ado, I turned away and made for
the road to the Hall at a run. A breeze had sprung
up, blowing in from the wide spaces of the North Sea
and bringing a smack of its salt to the lips. All
around, save over the marshland beyond Silwell, the
mist was lifting and rolling away and I had proceeded
perhaps half a mile when the moon suddenly emerged
and flooded the landscape with a ghostly radiance. I
found myself on a lonely road that wound slightly
upwards across a heath—a wild waste of furze,
heather, and new bracken. Away to the northeast, a
point of light from a lighthouse up the coast came and
went intermittently. The air was filled with the deep
murmur of the sea, that ceaselessly fretted the base of
the crumbling cliffs with an appetite unsatisfied by
248


PROFESSOR XAVIER
centuries of victory over the land. Crossing the waste
with the sound of the restless waters booming in my
ears, I thought of the ocean as of some huge, uncouth,
voracious monster, stirring half-awake, outside the
frail rampart of that lonely coast.
I shuddered involuntarily and quickened my pace.
My heart was thumping against my ribs and my nerves
were all on edge. Now when I most needed daring
and coolness, those qualities deserted me. I seemed
to scent a murderous ambush on both sides of the
furze-dotted heath land and my fingers closed on the
revolver in my pocket with the determination to fire
upon the first suspicious movement. In vain I argued
that Professor Xavier could not be aware of my ap-
proach and that accordingly I had nothing to fear.
His sinister figure, a fantastic creature of my imagina-
tion, loomed somewhere ahead of me, watching and
prepared for my coming. Heartily I wished myself
back in London. It seemed as though years had passed
since I had left my comfortable chambers for that
week-end in the country. How could I have reckoned
that Sunday night would find me crossing a lone, mis-
shapen heath somewhere in Suffolk with I knew not
what dangers in front of me?
The road ran on towards a plantation which I
reached some ten minutes later. The trees seemed to
be mostly pines and the road plunged straight into their
midst. I moved on into the obscurity with greater
249


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
caution, pausing every now and then to listen, but no
sound broke the silence save the murmur of the sea
and the faint whine of the wind amidst the branches.
Presently I came to the stone pillars of an ancient
gateway, where the road ended abruptly. The ram-
shackle wooden gate stood open and a carriage drive
wound away to the right. This then ought to be Sil-
well Hall.
A short distance up the drive the trees thinned away
and I emerged on an open space of unkept lawn on
the other side of which stood the Hall. The windows
stared out unwinkingly at the moon and there wasn't
a gleam of light anywhere. The whole place was
silent and somber as the grave; a silence more discon-
certing than a crowd of armed desperadoes. Had
Xavier and his gang fled? Anyhow, I must test the
matter without delay.
Striving to imagine myself an ordinary caller visit-
ing an ordinary house, I hurried across to the crum-
bling portico and hauled at the iron bell pull. Some-
where in the ominous interior a bell gave a harsh,
jangling response. No one came, but my straining
ears detected movements within. I waited a minute
and rang again. By and by a light appeared above
the door, there was a grating of bolts and the door
was flung open to disclose a wizened old woman
dressed in black, who peered at me with sharp eyes
set in a much wrinkled face.
250


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
cluse though he might be, it was obvious that Profes-
sor Xavier did not disdain the luxuries.
I waited ten minutes, fidgeting nervously in a chair.
The silence was nerve-racking. At any moment I ex-
pected to hear the whir of Garcia's motor engine out-
side the door. Tiptoeing over to the door I opened
it softly. The lamplighted hall was empty. I turned
to face the room again with the idea that I might take
a look at the Professor's big desk—after all, I was
here in the role of an amateur detective—and it was
just then that I felt the same uncomfortable■ sensation
of being watched that I had experienced in the octag-
onal room at Arnington Court. My eyes instantly
fixed themselves on the tall mirror set in the wall.
There came a sudden sharp click and a shutter or
blind unrolled like a flash behind the mirror, leav-
ing a large sheet of plate glass. Standing behind the
glass and regarding me with a sardonic smile was a
tall black-bearded man wearing a long dark surtout.
Behind him was a glimpse of a room furnished like
a laboratory. He opened the glass door and stepped
into the library.
Joan's description of the Brazilian professor had
been pretty accurate. He looked like Svengali come
to life again, except that the face and beard were fuller
and curiously aggressive so that it gave him an ap-
pearance of truculence. I have never seen a more
theatrical-looking figure off the stage. The door
252


PROFESSOR XAVIER
clicked behind him, the shutter rolling back automat-
ically into position, and he advanced with a slightly
mincing stride, twirling my card in his long, shapely
fingers.
"Sir Richard Montague?" he said, speaking with a
foreign accent, and he made me a profound bow.
I bowed in turn. "You are Professor Xavier?" I
asked unnecessarily, striving to collect the wits that his
dramatic entrance had scattered.
"At your service," he replied with a wave of the
hand. "Pray be seated, senor."
I sat down close to the desk and he took the chair
behind it.
"I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance," he
went on. "I am told you have important business,
huh?"
"My business is shortly stated, Professor," I said,
my natural coolness returning to me now that I had
at last got to close quarters with the enemy. "I have
traveled here to-day from Arnington Court. I un-
derstand you are intimately acquainted with both Lord
Arnington and Mr. Vernon."
"My dear sir, they are my best of friends," he cried
cordially. He pushed a box of cigarettes towards me.
"You will smoke, huh? Any friend of Lord Arn-
ington is very welcome here. You will stop the night,
senor? I regret that owing to a long absence on busi-
ness, Silwell Hall (he pronounced it "Seelvell") is not
253


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
so hospitably prepared as I should have liked. These
are difficult times with servants and my staff is"
he stopped with an eloquent shrug.
"I regret I cannot accept your invitation," I said,
lighting one of the proffered cigarettes. "A serious
danger is threatening Lord Arnington and I have
reason to believe that you are aware of its nature.
Mr. Vernon left Arnington Court very early this
morning, taking Lord Arnington with him. His des-
tination was Silwell Hall."
Xavier's bushy eyebrows arched in surprise. "Mr.
Vernon!" he eclaimed. "But it is impossible. He
did not come here. I haven't seen Mr. Vernon for
weeks."
"I'm afraid you must be mistaken, Professor
Xavier. Mr. Vernon arrived here with Lord Arn-
ington to-day. Better think it over again."
My calm tones stung him into a sudden anger, and
the dark eyes flashed menacingly. "I do not under-
stand what you try to insinuate," he said. "You imply
that I am not telling the truth, eh?"
"I imply a great deal more than that. I have re-
liable information that you and Mr. Vernon and an
ex-convict named Curtiss are engaged in a conspiracy
to smuggle stolen jewels out of England and that
Curtiss has impersonated Lord Arnington ever since
his arrival in this country. Further, I am informed
that you are bent on getting the real Lord Arnington
254


PROFESSOR XAVIER
out of the way and that he was carried to Silwell Hall
for that purpose."
As he listened the anger died out of his eyes and
gave way to an expression of bland incredulity. His
lips parted in a slow smile, revealing a set of gleaming
teeth.
"I think you must be—just a little mad, Sir Richard
Montague," he said slowly. "I have no knowledge of
what you are talking about, nor can I conceive
how you came to form such an—unfortunate im-
pression."
I adjusted my eyeglass and regarded him fixedly
for a moment. "I'm really not such a fool as I look,
Professor—not by a long chalk," I observed calmly.
"The impression I have formed may be an unfortunate
one—for you, but it is one which I feel bound to com-
municate to the police when they arrive here in the
morning, unless you can explain matters to my satis-
faction.
"Police, eh?" he scoffed. "So you would send for
the police? Huh, that is good! The police are my
very good friends."
"We'll see about that," I retorted, then adding a
shot at random, "Scotland Yard has learned some
strange things during the last day or two; as, for in-
stance, the connection of your gang with the disap-
pearance of the Paranoff pearls."
"Lies, all lies," he snarled jumping to his feet.
255


PROFESSOR XAVIER
of an ugly revolver which he leveled at me. "You
will sit down," he commanded and as I complied
he crossed the room in a few rapid strides, keeping
me covered the while, locked the door and dropped the
key in the pocket of his black surtout.
"There. That is better," he observed, resuming his
position behind the desk. "Now we must have a little
talk—you and I."
He placed the revolver on the desk within easy
reach of his hand and leaned back a little with white
finger tips placed delicately together.
"So. I will not hold the little pistol," he went on.
"We talk thus without embarrassment, senor; is it not
so? We shall be undisturbed also and I am sure that
after a little explanation and—er—a little—persua-
sion, you will confess that you have made a ridiculous
mistake. What you tell me may be partly true, how-
ever. It may be that Mr. Vernon has departed from
Arnington Court, but I am quite unaware of his des-
tination. At all events, he is not here. Your talk
of some one who impersonates Lord Arnington is
idle gossip." He snapped his fingers. "It is worth
nothing, and Lord Arnington can speak for himself.
I know nothing of what you say about stealing jewels.
Such charges you must make to Mr. Vernon and Lord
Arnington. For myself, I am a quiet, law-abiding
citizen. I do not interfere with others and—I do not
expect others to interfere with me. No."
257


4
CHAPTER XVI
A SUCCESSFUL RUSE
W
'OULD the Professor's momentary pre-
occupation with the rope give me time to
get at him across the desk ere he could
reach the revolver? The question flashed on the in-
stant across my mind. The odds were heavily against
me, but it was now or never. Unless Xavier was
lying, Gurtiss would arrive soon carrying Joan bound
and helpless in the car. I must risk a spring at my
adversary.
These thoughts occupied my feverishly working
brain for the matter of a second and I was about to
launch myself upon my hazardous project when a hand
shot out from behind the heavy red curtain beside the
desk and seized the revolver.
Next moment I heard Drew's voice saying: "Put
them up, Professor, or by the Lord Harry I'll let a
big draught into your brains. ... I guess they'll need
some cooling anyway," he added as Xavier dropped
the rope and put up his hands with a snarled oath.
"Thank God you've come, Drew," I gasped.
"You're just in time."
261


A SUCCESSFUL RUSE
scalped him by sweeping off the mass of dark hair
from the top of his head, that I realized the truth.
Vernon stood revealed before me, glaring speechlessly,
his lips drawn back in an ugly grimace.
"The acting was excellent, Mr. Vernon,” Drew ob-
served as he stepped back, revolver still poised, “but
the get-up was inartistic. 'Twas far too theatrical.
You ought to know that disguise doesn't consist in
sticking false hair all over you."
"I congratulate you on your smartness, Mr. Drew,”
said Vernon, recovering himself with a mighty effort.
"It will avail you nothing, however. All the exits
from the house are guarded.”
Drew chuckled excitedly. “We'll see,” he said.
“Get that rope quick, Sir Richard. We've got about
five minutes to do an hour's work. Take off that
black coat, Mr. Vernon.”
I laid hold of the rope, wondering what was to hap-
pen next, but Vernon seemed very reluctant to obey
Drew's command. He tried to prevaricate and began
to offer terms of surrender. Drew was not to be de-
terred from his purpose. With the muzzle of his re-
volver pressed behind Vernon's ear, he repeated his
order. Off came the long black surtout. Then act-
ing under Drew's instructions I bound Vernon's arms
tightly behind his back, carried the slack end of the
rope round his ankles and tied his feet securely to-
gether. Drew, laying down the revolver, came to my
263


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
assistance; and a couple of minutes later, Vernon was
lying on the floor, helplessly trussed and with a satis-
factory gag in his mouth. In the dark eyes that stared
up at us there glowed fierce impotent rage and a
menace of relentless hatred. Then we rolled him into
a corner behind one of the window curtains and left
him there.
"I guess we've got the dope on them this time,"
said Drew, bursting excitedly into blatant transatlantic-
isms. "We've got this old crook gang knocked
cuckoo."
"But what's the idea?" I asked. "What are you
going to do?"
"You slip over to the door and listen for any fairy
feet outside," he said. "I'll be ready in a minute."
He had divested himself of his overcoat, was hurry-
ing into the sham Professor's long black surtout and
as I crossed to the door he ran to the big mirror and
seemed busy with something in front of it.
"There isn't a sound," I called softly after a minute.
"Right," came Drew's reply from the mirror, and
I saw he was adjusting the Professor's black wig on
his head. Suddenly he swung round and came to-
wards me. I emitted a gasp of astonishment.
It was Professor Xavier who advanced with his
mincing walk and his finger tips delicately joined in
front of him.
"Welcome to my humble dwelling, Sir Richard,"
s
264


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
Xavier's own men on the spot hardly know him. He
posed as a recluse and they were well paid to do as
they were bid and keep their mouths shut. If I can
act the part I'll carry it through. Stick close behind
me.
He spoke in a rapid undertone and producing the
key of the door from the pocket of his black coat,
turned it in the lock. We passed out into the hall.
It was fairly large; and the only illumination came
from a standard lamp that cast a circle of light near
the fireplace, but left the rest of the room in com-
parative shadow. Near the lamp a man lay back in an
armchair, half asleep. He sprang to his feet and I re-
cognized Grayson. At the same moment the dark-
haired man, who had taken Xavier's orders in Portu-
guese, appeared from the direction of the front en-
trance.
Drew paused in his stride and I pulled up behind
him. My heart was thumping furiously. If these
men recognized him through the disguise, we should
have to make a desperate fight for it. Fervently I
prayed that the gag in Vernon's mouth would hold.
"It is excellent that you have agreed to be reason-
able, Sir Richard," said Drew in the voice of Xavier.
Accent and intonation were perfect. He turned sud-
denly upon Grayson. "Quick. Fetch Lord Arning-
ton here at once," he ordered. "No time is to be lost.
Go—both of you."
266


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
I nodded acquiescence. The wrinkled old woman
was advancing across the shadowy hall. She stopped,
peering up at Drew with her sharp little eyes. Mis-
giving seized me. Did this aged servitor penetrate
the disguise? An ominous silence reigned. Drew
began to pace up and down, keeping his face in the
shadows. The old woman turned towards the half-
open door of the library and I prepared to bar the way.
Then suddenly the door at the far end of the hall
opened and Grayson and the other man entered bear-
ing a man between them and followed by Sin, the
Chinaman. They deposited their burden on a couch
beneath the lamplight. It was Arnington; and he
was completely unconscious.
Instantly I saw that the plan for getting him out
of the house must fail unless we could put up a suc-
cessful fight against odds. I sprang to Drew's side,
and the old woman slipped past me into the library.
And just then came the whir of a motor car driven
rapidly up to the front door.
"Jehoshaphat! We're too late," he exclaimed in a
whisper. "That's Curtiss. I can't hope to deceive
him for more than a minute or two."
"And he's got Joan in the car," I muttered hoarsely,
clutching at his arm. "My God, I'll put a bullet
through the scoundrel."
"No, listen. We've got to get the girl to a place of
safety," he went on. "I'll manage it, if you stick
268


A SUCCESSFUL RUSE
behind me and attract attention. Shout, fight, do any-
thing to create a shindy. Understand?"
I nodded and he turned towards the entrance. Gray-
son ran across the hall and slipped in front of him.
"Kindly come this way, Sir Richard," Drew called
to me in Xavier's voice and made for the entrance.
With a wave of the arm he swept the now suspicious
Grayson aside. Next moment we were out of doors
with the cool night air on our brows.
The gray touring car had drawn up, the engine still
throbbing. Garcia held open the door of the tonneau
from which Pauline Vernon had descended and Cur-
tiss was just stepping down. Behind him I caught a
glimpse of a vague shape huddled on the floor, and
blind rage surged up in me that came nigh to over-
whelming all caution and prudence.
"Ah, you have come just at the right time, my
friend," came the cool tones of the bogus Xavier as
he advanced to meet Curtiss. "We have laid the
American spy by the heels and Sir Richard Montague
has capitulated. You have the girl there?"
Curtiss stood stock still, a look of bewilderment
dawning on his face.
"Yes, the girl's there," he said, "but . . ." his glance
wandered to me.
"I will carry her in with the help of Garcia," the
foreign voice went on. "Quick, look to Montague.
He may play us false yet."
269


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
He brushed rudely past Curtiss and stopped beside
Garcia. "Help me to lift her out," he said to the
chauffeur.
Curtiss took a couple of strides forward until he
was level with me. An ugly smile twisted his mouth.
I glanced hurriedly behind me. Grayson and the other
man had emerged from the house, Pauline Vernon had
paused on the steps and a third man had sidled up out
of the darkness.
"You agree to Professor Xavier's terms?" Curtiss
shot at me.
"I fear there is no alternative open to me," I re-
plied, and as I "spoke I edged round a bit so that I
now stood between Curtiss and the car. The whole
affair lasted less than a minute and Curtiss, although
obviously suspicious, had not made up his mind what
was amiss.
Suddenly came the sound of a heavy thud. With-
out warning, Drew had dealt the luckless Garcia a
terrific blow that sent him sprawling near my feet.
At the same instant he shouted, "Keep 'em all back
for a minute, Sir Richard."
I needed no second bidding. Before he could re-
cover from his surprise I had sent a fist crashing to
Curtiss' jaw and he went down like a ninepin. At
the same instant I was aware of Vernon's sudden ap-
pearance on the steps of the house, of his shouting
angry orders to his men. The old woman had found
270


CHAPTER XVII
SMUGGLERS' TRYST
HOW long it was before I opened my eyes on
an icy darkness, filled with a strange gurg-
ling sound, I have no means of knowing
and it was some time before I attempted any move-
ment. My head ached, my limbs were stiff with cold
and a faintly nauseating odor as of some anaesthetic
hung about my nostrils. For the moment I contented
myself with lying quite still and striving to collect my
scattered senses.
Where was I? What had happened to me after that
scuffle before the door of Silwell Hall? Very vaguely
I seemed to remember being borne somewhere sur-
rounded by grim black figures that whispered to one
another. Out of the shadowy confusion of my
thoughts one phrase recurred to me: "Smugglers'
Tryst." What did it mean? Had somebody uttered
the words or did I only imagine them? I recollected
nothing more save that I had tried to lift my head and
that a cloth saturated with some sweet-smeiling stuff
had been pressed over my face.
As I lay staring into the blackness with my mind
272


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
I had no means of knowing what time had elapsed
since I received that stunning blow, but the fact that
I had been removed from Silwell Hall seemed to spell
disaster.
To my joy, I found a box of matches in my pocket
and was about to make use of them, when another
sound detached itself from the moan of the sea and
struck me motionless. Quite close to me I heard a
panting breath and the sound of something stirring in
the darkness. I was not alone. Some one or some-
thing was creeping stealthily towards me.
I became rigid, with muscles and nerves taut,
straining my ears for the slightest sound and ready to
deal with any attack. Whatever thing it was that
stirred over there in the blackness seemed moving to-
wards me with inimical intent.
I waited, wondering if my thumping heart would
betray my position, and the thing drew nearer. As
long as I live I shall never forget the horror of those
seconds that seemed like hours. Should I wait to be
attacked or ought I to spring upon my adversary and
gain the advantage of a surprise? If I sprang, what
would my hands encounter?
Now the panting breath seemed to fan my face and
something plucked at my coat. Unable to remain
passive any longer, I sprang wildly upon the enemy
and stumbled across a human body. Fingers clawed
at my face and suddenly a quivering cry, that was half
274


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"Good job you didn't succeed," I observed grin
"Have you any idea where we are?"
"No. It doesn't matter though. They mean
kill me and I'm done anyhow." His voice was utter
weary and resigned.
"Come now, Philip," I remonstrated sharply.
no intention of dying yet awhile—whatever your idea
may be on the matter. How did you get here?"
"I don't know. They had me at Silwell Hall. . .
I was there once or twice—before. . . . Sin was or.
guard. . . . They injected some drug and I fell asleep
to—to waken here. . . . My God, I wish I had never
wakened!"
He spoke pantingly and disjointedly, but the last
sentence was uttered with a sudden fierce emphasis.
"Then it seems you know no more than I do," I
said. "As there was a way into this place, there must
be a way out. You hear the sea?"
"The sea! Ah, yes, I was dreaming of it," he mur-
mured crazily. "It sang to me as I lay out on the soft
white sand with stars as big as moons burning in a
purple sky. . . ." He broke into a harsh laugh.
"What am I saying, Dick?" he cried querulously.
"I'm talking nonsense. It was all a dream born of the
little pipe. . . . I've had such extraordinary dreams.
. . . You ought to smoke opium or hashish, Dick."
I stood up and lighted another match. I must fend
for myself. Philip, ill and in a dazed, half-drugged
276


SMUGGLERS' TRYST
or two before we would be overwhelmed and in that
time I must drag from the surrounding darkness the
secret of our entrance.
I sprang to my feet and commenced a minute if
feverish investigation of the walls, economizing my
diminishing store of matches as much as possible. In
a few minutes I discovered on the seaward wall to-
wards one end of the platform a little window through
which the salt air sang a mournful dirge, extinguish-
ing my match. It was a horizontal air shaft across
the thickness of the cliff and not more than a foot in
diameter, but I found that, standing erect, I could
catch a glimmer of moonshine on a ruffled sea and dis-
tinguish a dark line that probably marked the horizon.
It gave me fresh heart. I inserted my arm in the
opening and thrust it outwards as far as it would go.
My fingers just reached the outer end. Here was
communication, frail though it might be, with the out-
side world. If I could evolve some kind of signal
there was a chance that it might be seen before it was
too late.
Further examination of the walls revealed nothing.
The access to the cave must be somewhere in the roof
which my match was too feeble to illuminate with any
certainty. I seated myself beside Philip, who seemed
to have become more coherent, and communicated the
result of my investigations.
"Unless we can signal through that hole or find a
279


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
way out by the roof, we're dead men," I concluded
tersely.
"I don't care for myself," he said despondently.
"Life's become almost unendurable to me."
"Shut up," I said angrily. "Don't make things
worse than they are. Have you got any matches?"
I heard him fumbling in his pockets.
"Here's a box of wax vestas," he said presently.
"Splendid! And paper?"
"Paper? No, I've no paper, only a small edition of
Omar Khayyam I carry around."
"That will probably do. Let's have it."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Burn it. I'm going to construct a flare."
Reluctantly he surrendered the Persian poet to my
tender mercies. To my delight I found that the pages
were dry and unglazed. They would kindle readily,
and my pocketbook would supply further material. I
unearthed a piece of string, got out my silk handker-
chief and pocketknife and divested myself of my tie.
Then, working slowly and with infinite difficulty be-
cause of the darkness, I set myself to manufacture a
long flare composed of the tie, string and handkerchief
knotted together with paper and matches fastened in
clumps at short intervals. If I succeeded in lighting
it and thrusting it through the little window, it might
be seen. It was a chance in ten thousand, perhaps, but
still it was a chance.
280


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
All over the States the heir of Arnington had
wandered trying his hand at most things and succeed-
ing in none. As proud and unbending in his way as
his father, he refused to admit any wrong on his part;
and he would sooner have starved to death than have
crept home a cringing prodigal returning to seek for-
giveness and a very unlikely fatted calf. His volatile
temperament sent him now up into the heights and
now down into the depths; and it was during one of
the low periods when he was at a loose end in San
Francisco that he first learned the value of the little
opium pipe. By gradations he became a drug addict,
struggling at first and then complacent. How he
had fallen into Vernon's clutches was not clear, but
it was easy to understand how that magnetic personal-
ity had gripped and dominated him. Vernon became
the purveyor of drugs he had no other means of pro-
curing. From that point onwards, his story was on
the lines that Radcliffe had indicated. A wreck of
his former self and dominated by Vernon's will, he
had entered into a pact whereby he renounced his title
and estate to the impostor that Vernon brought for-
ward. He even undertook to coach the spurious heir
to the Arnington estates in the part he would have
to play, but before the work was well started the old
man died. Philip was shipped across the Atlantic at
the same time as Curtiss so that he might keep the
latter right in details, and sign any necessary docu-
282


SMUGGLERS' TRYST
ments. The house was reconstructed, and the hidden
room of which Philip knew the secret together with
part of the cellars beneath was fitted up as an abode
for him while it was necessary for him to remain at
Arnington Court. The terrible compact which Ver-
non had forced on him in America assumed a differ-
ent aspect in his old home. Probably I shall never
understand a tithe of the torture that Philip endured
in the subsequent months. The old family pride
buried beneath the wreckage of his former self seemed
to have struggled to the surface; remorse gripped him.
On the other hand he was fighting a losing battle
against Vernon and he knew it. Weakened by drugs,
alternately bullied and cajoled and with the fear of
death ever in the background, he was no match for
Vernon's indomitable will. Then he discovered that
they were using his name and position to further the
scheme for stealing and disposing of valuable jewels.
This was not part of the pact, and he strongly re-
sented it. It produced a strange psychological effect,
giving his drug-crazed brain the necessary stimulus
to plan revenge. He grew cunning, watching his op-
portunity to wreck Vernon's plan, while he assumed
an unaccustomed docility. Then chance placed the
Paranoff pearls and the measurements for the other
jewels in his hands. He hid them in the paneling be-
hind the stair. Then, in an access of fear, and acting
under the influence of the drug, he had slipped into the
283


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
big hall through the secret door one night, when Sin
had yielded to the lure of the little pipe and was heav-
ily asleep. His purpose was to remove the necklace
and the papers to another hiding place which might be
safer. The idea, I gathered, was more an impulse
born of fear than a fixed plan. By accident he met
me in the hall and thrust the little box and the envelope
into my care. Next day he had only a dim recollec-
tion, like the memory of dreams, of what had occurred.
So intent had I been upon the manufacture of my
flare that it was not until his rambling utterances
trailed into silence that I realized two things of the
greatest import. I became aware of a gray light in
our prison. I could see Philip sitting beside me, I
could even discern the outline of his features. My
eyes sought the little window and it showed a rough
rectangle of daylight. Then even as I sprang to my
feet I realized that the water was upon us. The mouth
of the downward-sloping tunnel had disappeared and
had given place to a faintly luminous expanse of water
that flowed gently across the floor of the cave to our
feet. In a few minutes, we should be ankle deep in
water, and my poor flare would be useless as a signal
now that the dawn was spreading.
After a feverish search along the wall opposite the
window, I discovered a projecting knot of rock to
which I fastened my flare. Then I lighted it at the
top and it burned steadily although too quickly.
284


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
was unable to throw it open was infinitely galling.
The surging tide was now above our knees and in a
little while it would have risen sufficiently to allow
it to flow in through the window in the rock. From
that point the cavern would fill rapidly and, even if I
could keep afloat, the weight of the trap was enough
to dispose of the possibility of lifting it. Nothing
could save us now.
I struggled over to the window for a last glimpse
of the world without. The quiet surface of the sea
seemed much closer and my view was more restricted.
There was no sign of life or movement save an oc-
casional gull wheeling past the opening. My limbs
were growing numb and a great weariness came over
me. Then suddenly there came to my ears a sound
that sent the blood leaping in my chill veins. It was a
faint splashing and the grating noise of oars working
in rowlocks. Without more ado, I lifted up my voice
and shouted.
There was an answering cry. A heavy rowboat
shot into view, with an old fisherman at one oar and
a young fisherman at the other. Standing up in the
bow, and looking keenly all round him, was Drew.
"Drew!" I yelled. "Drew!"
"Jehoshaphat! Where tfie devil are you?" he called.
I shouted directions and the boat approached.
Next moment Drew's face obscured the other end of
the aperture. Hurriedly I explained our situation.


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
one above, we were pulled through this opening; and
at last I was in the open air, sitting on the grass amidst
a cluster of furze bushes, with the slanting sunlight
taking the numbness out of me, and an early lark
singing in the sky.
Some one thrust a flask of brandy into my hand and
I drank the neat spirit as if it had been water.


TEE AEROPLANE
Nothing loath I got out of the car and Mr. Nathan
ushered me hospitably into his cottage. I was blue
with cold and my teeth were chattering, and I hailed
with delight the fire that blazed warmly in the kitchen.
iMrs. Nathan, a charming old lady who received me on
the threshold, must have been astir before dawn. A
towel and a variety of garments, that included a blue
jersey and a pair of blue slacks, were hanging in front
of the fire to air and warm.
When my toilet was completed the old couple came
into the kitchen and Mrs. Nathan set before me a meal
of hot strong tea, toasted bread and cheese; and fear-
ing that the potency of the tea might prove inadequate,
the old man produced the brandy flask and, without
asking my permission, solemnly emptied the remainder
of its contents into the teapot.
I fell upon this improvised meal with a voracious
appetite and as I ate Mr. and Mrs. Nathan began to
talk volubly of what had happened. I gathered there
had been great doings during the night. The cheery
American gentleman (Drew) had roused the village
and demanded the assistance of a search party to scour
the coast for signs of two gentlemen who were being
done to death. He had told a tale of a gang of
criminals in possession of Silwell Hall from whose
clutches he had rescued a young lady. Apparently
there was no love lost between the villagers and the
occupants of the Hall and the sinister figure of Pro-
293


THE AEROPLANE
The car's been running like quicksilver ever since
Garcia doctored it. Well, I had to take Miss Tracy
to a place where she'd be comfortable and absolutely
safe. I got down to Silwell-on-Sea, and got some of
the folk out of their beds. The rectory was three
miles away on the other side of Silwell-by-the-Marsh
(great names these!) but the local doctor had his house
above the fishing village. I got him and his wife out
of bed and gave them a pretty highly colored vision
of the inhabitants of Silwell Hall; told the doctor In-
spector Brook might be expected before morning and
that his medical skill would be required to mend more
than one broken head. They took Miss Tracy in and
I returned on my tracks after leaving the car in the
village; for I couldn't risk driving it close to Silwell
Hall. I calculated Vernon would be too scared,
knowing the game was up, to do anything very drastic,
but I was very uneasy. It seemed an almighty long
road back to the Hall. I knew they'd be on the watch
for me and as the moon was up I left the road and took
to the heath with the idea of approaching the Hall
from the back. If I could run across young Rad-
cliffe I thought I could find out how the land lay.
Just the same I wasn't calculating on too much help
from that quarter, for I knew he'd be raising Cain
with the Vernon girl somewhere. It was just when
I was getting near the Hall that I saw the burial
party returning."
295


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"The what!" I exclaimed.
"I guessed it was a burial party at first, and I was
very nearly right as things turned out. There is a
rough track running across the heath from the cliffs
towards Silwell Hall. It skirts the plantation and
joins the road about two hundred yards from the gates.
When I reached the plantation I saw a car coming,
swinging and bumping along the track from the di-
rection of the sea. It stopped at the edge of the plan-
tation and some men got out and proceeded to climb
the fence inclosing the plantation, while the car drove
on along the track. There were five of them, Curtiss
and Sin, the Chink, among 'em. They had a couple
of things that looked like stretchers, a long coil of rope
and a brace of spades. At that moment I gave you
up for lost. I lay low in a prickly bush and they
passed within a few yards of me. They seemed to be
arguing about something. I only caught one sentence.
Curtiss said something about 'Smugglers' Tryst' being
the safest place in England. It wasn't much, but it
was enough for me.
"As soon as they were well through the wood I set
off down the track with my nose almost touching the
ground. It was easy to follow the fresh trail of the
car in the soft ground and I traced it right to where
the track emerged on the road over by the cliffs. The
stretchers, of course, were to facilitate the carrying
of you and Arnington to some place away from the
296


THE AEROPLANE
road. The rope suggested a spot difficult of access,
and the spades suggested grave digging. For a time
I searched the rough ground between the road and the
cliff top for some trace of fresh-turned earth, but it
was like playing blind man's buff in a forest. I gave
it up and set off for Silwell-on-Sea again. I made a
thorough nuisance of myself but got the village thor-
oughly roused at the same time. The upshot was that
a search party was organized while another lot volun-
teered to guard the approaches to Silwell Hall. In-
deed they wanted to make a concerted attack on the
place, but the local policeman said it would be against
the law. I learned that 'Smugglers' Tryst' was a sort
of bay along the coast where the sea had bitten a great
variety of holes in the crumbling cliffs where smug-
glers used to hide their stuff, and that a number of
those caves were now under water at high tide.
"Just before dawn Inspector Brook turned up and
I put him wise as to what had taken place. He made
for the Hall, and I set off with the search party. Old
Nathan was mighty surprised when he heard you
shouting through that hole in the rock. He's known
'Smugglers' Tryst' since he was a boy and never
thought there was any way of getting into that par-
ticular cave, although there was a tradition that the
smugglers had used it in the days when the sea was
farther back. We disembarked, got up to the top of
the cliffs and began to search for the entrance. We
297


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
discovered it presently; a hole about the size of a
rabbit's, which showed clear signs of having been re-
cently dug out and filled in again with earth. We ex-
cavated like terriors unearthing a bone, for we had
only our bare hands, and presently uncovered the whole
entrance to the upper cave. Fortunately I had had
the gumption to bring ropes with me in the boat, and
the rest was easy."
"And I must express my gratitude to you for the
night's work," I said. "I fancy Vernon and Curtiss
won't scruple to put a bullet in you if they get the
chance."
"Let's hope Brook has laid them by the heels,"
Drew responded. "We've smashed the gang, but we
can't afford to have a man of Vernon's capabilities
left at large."
We passed through the gates of Silwell Hall where
a policeman stood on guard, and pulled up in front of
the house. A second policeman and one or two men
from the village formed a little group near the door.
We got out of the car and Inspector Brook met us
on the doorstep, a spare, gray-haired man with an
alert manner.
"We've searched the house and we've got one or two
members of the gang, including the Chinaman," he
told us. "The others have disappeared, but we've
made some important discoveries. Your theory that
this was the headquarters of the gang that carried out
298


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"This gentleman is Lord Arnington's factor, In-
spector. Your men evidently take him for one of
the gang, but they are mistaken. He has, on the con-
trary, been of the greatest assistance to me in my in-
vestigations."
Inspector Brook nodded, but he eyed the young fel-
low with obvious suspicion.
"You must come quickly," Radcliffe burst out as
soon as he had recovered his breath. "Vernon and
Curtiss are over by the hangars, getting one of the
machines out. The head mechanic lives there and he's
helping them. They'll escape unless we're damned
quick."
"Hangars!" the Inspector cried. "You mean
they're getting away by aeroplane?"
Drew did not wait to reply but got into the car,
Radcliffe, Brook and myself following. We bumped
dangerously along a narrow track through the planta-
tion and emerged on the far side upon a great ex-
panse of treeless waste. Almost half a mile away
there stood a group of low buildings constructed of
brick with galvanized roofs. The doors of the shed
in the center were open and an aeroplane was drawn
out on the grass in front. By the propeller a man was
standing ready, a second was climbing into the
machine, while I thought I could discern a third al-
ready in the pilot's seat.
The ground became rough and our progress so slow
300


THE AEROPLANE
that we stopped the car and, getting out, began to run
towards the hangars; and presently we came to a wide
space of short turf. The man by the aeroplane was
working frantically to get the machine under way, and
the figure in the pilot's place seemed to be shouting
and gesticulating. Again and again the man in front
swung the propeller; I ground my teeth in rage at the
thought that the archscoundrels might escape us. Had
I had my rifle I could easily have picked them both off.
As we approached nearer Drew pulled out his revolver
and Brook and I followed suit.
"Try to wing the pilot," Drew cried. He fired a
couple of shots but the range was still too great.
Suddenly when we were within sixty yards of the
enemy, the engine started with a roar, the propeller
gyrated in a whirlwind, and the aeroplane raced to-
wards us like some infuriated monster. We had
barely time to scatter in order to avoid destruction,
but as the machine rushed past the sharp crackle of
pistol shots sounded through the mighty roar. At
the same moment the machine rose from the ground
and skimmed away gracefully towards the trees. We
all stood looking after it, Drew and Brook and I with
revolvers still smoking in our hands.
"My God!" Radcliffe cried excitedly. "Curtiss is
trying to pilot. I gave the beggar a few lessons and
he has the cheek to go up alone. He'll come a cropper
for certain."
301


THE AEROPLANE
he flew straight in a southerly direction, roughly paral-
lel with the coast.
We reached the crossroads with the fugitive plane
high above us and a bit ahead, the morning sun glint-
ing on the wings. Without hesitating Drew kept
straight on instead of turning towards Silwell village.
His desire seemed to be to keep the aeroplane in sight
as long as possible. Presently the car slowed down
on a sharp little rise. We topped it and the shining
plane of the sea came into view.
At the same moment Cartiss turned seaward, seemed
to lose his head, banked dangerously and swung over
the land again. It was evident that something had
gone wrong. Had the revolver shots found a vital
mark on pilot or machine, I wondered? I shall never
forget the next few minutes of mad, exhilarating rush.
Drew opened the throttle to its utmost capacity and
the powerful car, as though imbued with the spirit of
the chase, tore along the empty road.
The end came with amazing suddenness. I saw a
little trail of smoke shoot out behind the aeroplane.
Curtiss attempted to mount steeply to a still higher
level. The movement was beyond his skill to accom-
plish. The aeroplane rose, lurched tremendously, and
he lost control. It heeled over until the wings lay at
the perpendicular, seemed to hang poised for the frac-
tion of a second, then nose-dived straight to earth, dis-
appearing behind a copse.
303


THE AEROPLANE
nowhere and Radcliffe moved off in the direction of
the car. I caught up with him.
"That was a wonderful if a tragic experience, Rad-
cliffe," I said. "But for you the Arnington adven-
ture, as Drew calls it, might have had a very different
conclusion. What do you propose to do?"
"I'm going back at once to Silwell in the car, if I
may," he said. "You see I left Pauline behind."
"Bless my soul, I'd forgotten all about her," I said.
"You may think it funny of me after all—this," he
went on lamely. "We had a devil of a dust-up last
night, and Pauline came over to my side. She's down
and out and I must take care of her. We'll get mar-
ried and clear abroad somewhere unless the police
authorities run me in. But Drew has promised—"
"To keep you out of it? I'll back him up in that.
After all we owe you something. But—I don't un-
derstand. Where is Pauline now?"
"I went towards 'The Three Bells' in search of her
and saw her pass in the car with Curtiss. I hurried
back to Silwell Hall, saw her and persuaded her to
come away with me. I knew nothing of your capture
at the time. It was only after we'd walked two or
three miles to a God-forsaken village where I got her
put up for the night that she told me about it, and I
left her to hurry back."
The boyish face was set and haggard and his eyes
burned feverishly. I realized suddenly the enormous
305


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
strain to which he had been subjected for the last
thirty-six hours. Only youth and a splendid physique
could have withstood collapse. I took a sudden de-
cision.
“Get away in the car now and send it back from Sil-
well with one of Brook's men,” I said. "I'U stand
responsible to the Inspector."
I held out a hand to him and he took it gratefully.
“And you'd better get some sleep when you reach
your God-forsaken hole," I counseled as I wrung his
hand. “Drew will see to it that you aren't disturbed.
I hope your love affairs will prosper."
He laughed grimly.
"That, like the last experience of Vernon and Cur-
tiss, is all in the air," he said.
I turned away with the picture of Joan in my mind.
That, too, was rather “in the air."
-
-
-
-
-
-
-


CHAPTER XIX
CONCLUSION
HADN'T expected you home before the after-
noon, sir," Carruthers remarked as he helped
me off with a borrowed overcoat and scarcely
concealed his astonishment at the fisherman's garb be-
neath.
"Well, I came by a different route than I had an-
ticipated," I returned. "Partly by train and partly
by car.”
"Indeed, sir, Will you take an early lunch, sir?”
"Lunch! No, I don't want lunch. Get me a sand-
wich or two, Carruthers, and a respectable whisky
and soda. Oh, and get my bed ready. I'm going to
sleep."
His eyebrows arched themselves about a quarter of
an inch, but he betrayed no other sign of perturbation
at this fresh surprise. He bowed and departed, while
I went to my bedroom. I was, indeed, unutterably
weary, and it seemed months since I had last slept in
that comfortable bed.
I was in pajamas and dressing gown when Car-
ruthers entered, bearing a tray with my refreshment.
307


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
"I hope you had a pleasant week-end with your
old pal from Australia," I said, as he deposited the
tray.
"We spent a most enjoyable time together, Sir
Richard, thank you." He hesitated and added, "A
trifle er—strenuous perhaps for one, like myself, that's
not used to gadding about, as you might say, sir. We
went down to Eastbourne—quite a nice resort."
"Entirely innocuous, I've no doubt, Carruthers."
I bit a sandwich and he fidgeted a moment.
"I trust your week-end proved equally enjoyable,
sir," he said, with a strong note of interrogation in his
voice.
"I can't exactly say I regret it," I answered thought-
fully. "Like your week-end it was perhaps a trifle
strenuous, even for one who is used to gadding about
the Gobi desert and such places. As for being en-
joyable—well, I shouldn't care to commit myself about
that. . . . I'm too tired to say more just now. Call
me in time to dress for dinner."
I awoke about seven in the evening after a thor-
oughly refreshing sleep, feeling vigorous and—how
shall I put it?—sane. Somehow it was as if I had
emerged from a nightmare of confusion and horror
with my mental equilibrium and my sense of perspec-
tive restored.
308


CONCLUSION
"Miss Tracy rang you up a short time ago," Car-
ruthers announced as he laid out my clothes. "I in-
formed her that you were still sleeping and"
"Where was she speaking from?" I interrupted.
"Portland Place, sir."
I pulled on a dressing gown, rushed to the telephone
and was soon in communication with Joan. It ap-
peared that she and Drew and the doctor from Silwell-
on-Sea had brought Philip to London in a closed car.
They had seen Brian Mayhew's father, the famous
specialist in Harley Street, and now Philip was in a
nursing home. His life was not at present in danger
and the main difficulty was to wean him from the
drug habit, which would inevitably prove fatal if per-
sisted in. The specialist was entirely confident that
the case would yield to careful and gradual treatment,
which might, however, take many months. Then
Mayhew had been telegraphed for and was on his way
back to town.
Joan was in surprisingly gay spirits. Now that
the mystery surrounding her brother had been cleared
up and the real Philip restored to her, she was disposed
to take a rosy view of the future. Youth like hers
suffers little reaction upon relaxation of a strain, and
the young woman of to-day seems capable of stand-
ing almost anything.
I told her as much and pictured her charming grim-
ace at the other end of the wire.
3°9


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
—^j
"And I have been sleeping the. sleep of exhausted
age while you have been working with unimpaired
vigor," I added regretfully. "You ought to have
rested, Joan."
"As a matter of fact I did have forty winks when
I got home, but I think I'm too glad that it's all over
to feel properly exhausted," she said. "Besides I
hadn't much to do. Mr. Drew arranged everything.
He's wonderful. He knew exactly what was wanted
and made everybody else know it too. I guess he's
some hustler." (This last in delightful mimicry of
Drew's voice.)
"Confound Drew," I exclaimed ungraciously.
"May I come round after dinner?"
"Yes, if you like," she answered, "I'll be alone, but
that won't matter, will it?" She broke into a ripple
of laughter. "I'm sending for Aunt Caroline to come
at once. She's at Bournemouth with her bronchitis,
and she won't like it, but■ she'll run any risk for the
convenances."
At nine o'clock I reached Portland Place and rang
the bell. I tried to look more calm and collected than
I felt, for I had something of the trepidation of the
schoolboy standing outside the door of the headmas-
ter's study, who is about to crave an especial favor.
Joan would be alone. Should I ask her to marry me
now or should I wait another opportunity?
I was conducted to her own special sanctum. As
310


CONCLUSION
I walked down the carpeted corridor I could picture
her sitting by the hearth, with the glint of the fire-
light in her dark hair and a smile of welcome in her
dark eyes.
But she wasn't alone. As I crossed the threshold,
surprise forced an ejaculation to my lips. Joan was
seated on one side of a little table, Drew on the other;
and between them was a chessboard dotted with pieces
at which they were staring in gloomy silence. To
crown all, Drew was actually smoking one of his vile
cigars that brutally polluted the natural fragrance of
the little sanctum. Joan's rose-tipped cigarette was
the retaliation of a midge to an elephant.
I was greeted in a perfunctory manner and forced
to witness three further moves before Drew sat back
and turned to me.
"I guess I can mate in four now," he said. "It's
been a stiff tussle though. Sorry to keep you waiting,
Sir Richard. Have a cigar?"
He dived into his waistcoat pocket and thrust one of
his smokes towards me with a merry twinkle in his
eyes. His expression reminded me irresistibly of Mr.
Bangs and I burst out laughing. Then I lighted a
cigarette and waited, while Joan, who would not admit
defeat, studied the position. The four moves were
duly made and Joan's king was duly cornered beyond
all possibility of escape.
"You've been very patient, Dick," said Joan, push-
3"


FRIDAY TO MONDAY
ing the table aside. "So has Mr. Drew, for my chess
is pretty rudimentary."
"On the contrary. You have a remarkable concep-
tion of the game," said Drew gallantly. "I wish we
could have another, but I fear I must go now. It was
extremely gracious of you to redeem your promise so
soon."
He rose as he spoke. "I've arranged that you and
I go round to Scotland Yard to-morrow morning if
you can make it convenient," he said■ to me. "May
I call for you at your house? I guess we'll fix things
so that Lord Arnington won't be dragged into the
limelight. The authorities will deal with the jewel
robberies and we can get them to cut the rest out.
Meantime I'm off to get some sleep."
He bowed with an old-fashioned courtesy over
Joan's hand.
"Good night, Miss Joan," he said, "I guess you and
Sir Richard will want to congratulate each other on
the successful termination of our week-end in the
country. I hope you'll give me the privilege of meet-
ing you once more over the chessboard before I return
to America."
"Once more!" she echoed. "We'll have lots of
games, Mr. Drew."
"Not this trip," he said, with a sigh of resignation.
"I've already arranged my return passage."
"But why are you in such a hurry?" I queried.
312


CONCLUSION
"Well," he answered slowly, "I must give my per-
sonal report to the Noo York authorities." A merry
twinkle lighted his gray eyes. "And I guess I've got
to get busy with the production of the Great Aristo-
cratic Families and Homes of England," he added.
The door closed softly behind him, and Joan held
out both hands to me with a smile of welcome, hap-
piness and, I interpreted, encouragement.
(4)
THE END


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