"What is it, Mr. Greenwood? May I not know?"
For answer I handed her the note. She read it through quickly, then gave vent to a loud cry of dismay, realising that Burton Blair"s daughter had actually fled. That she held the man Dawson in fear was plain. She dreaded that her own secret, whatever it was, must now be exposed, and had, it seemed, fled rather than again face me. But why?
What could her secret possibly be that she was so ashamed that she was bent upon hiding herself?
Mrs. Percival summoned the coachman, Crump, who had driven his young mistress to Euston, and questioned him.
"Miss Mabel ordered the _coupe_ just before eleven, ma"am," the man said, saluting. "She took her crocodile dressing-bag with her, but last night she sent away a big trunk by Carter Patterson--full of old clothing, so she told her maid. I drove her to Euston Station where she alighted and went into the booking-hall. She kept me waiting about five minutes, when she brought a porter who took her bag, and she then gave me the letter addressed to Mr. Greenwood to give to you. I drove home then, ma"am."
"She went to the North, evidently," I remarked when Crump had left and the door had closed behind him. "It looks as though her flight was premeditated. She sent away her things last night."
I was thinking of that arrogant young stable worker, Hales, and wondering if his renewed threats had really caused her to keep another tryst with him. If so, it was exceedingly dangerous.
"We must find her," said Mrs. Percival, resolutely. "Ah!" she sighed, "I really don"t know what will happen, for the house is now in possession of this odious man Dawson and his daughter, and the man is a most uncouth, ill-bred fellow. He addresses the servants with an easy familiarity, just as though they were his equals; and just now, he actually complimented one of the housemaids upon her good looks!
Terrible, Mr. Greenwood, terrible," exclaimed the widow, greatly shocked. "Most disgraceful show of ill-breeding! I certainly cannot remain here now Mabel has thought fit to leave, without even consulting me. Lady Rainham called this afternoon, but of course I had to be not at home. What can I tell people in these distressing circ.u.mstances?"
I saw how scandalised was the estimable old chaperone, for she was nothing if not a straightforward widow, whose very life depended upon rigorous etiquette and the traditions of her honourable family. Cordial and affable to her equals, yet she was most frigid and unbending to all inferiors, cultivating a habit of staring at them through her square eyegla.s.s rimmed with gold, and surveying them as though they were surprising creatures of a different flesh and blood. It was this latter idiosyncrasy which always annoyed Mabel, who held the very womanly creed that one should be kind and pleasant to inferiors and cold only to enemies. Nevertheless, under Mrs. Percival"s protective wing and active tuition, Mabel herself had gone into the best circle of society whose doors are ever open to the daughter of the millionaire, and had established a reputation as one of the most charming _debutantes_ of her season.
How society has altered in these past ten years! Nowadays, the golden key is the open sesame of the doors of the bluest blood in England.
The old exclusive circles are no longer, or if there are any, they are obscure and dowdy. Ladies go to music halls and glorified night-clubs.
What used to be regarded as the drawback from the dinner at a restaurant is now a princ.i.p.al attraction. A gentlewoman a generation ago reasonably objected that she did not know whom she might sit next. Now, as was the case at the theatre in the pre-Garrick days, the loose character of a portion of the visitors const.i.tutes in itself a lure.
The more flagrant the scandal concerning some bedizened "impropriety"
the greater the inducement to dine in her company, and, if possible, in her vicinity. Of such is the tone and trend of London society to-day!
For a quarter of an hour, while Reggie was engaged with Dawson _pere et fille_, I took counsel with the widow, endeavouring to form some idea of where Mabel had concealed herself. Mrs. Percival"s idea was that she would reveal her whereabouts ere long, but, knowing her firmness of character as well as I did, I held a different opinion. Her letter was one of a woman who had made a resolve and meant at all hazards to keep it. She feared to meet me, and for that reason would, no doubt, conceal her ident.i.ty. She had a separate account at Coutts" in her own name, therefore she would not be compelled to reveal her whereabouts through want of funds.
Ford, the dead man"s secretary, a tall, clean-shaven, athletic man of thirty, put his head into the room, but, finding us talking, at once withdrew. Mrs. Percival had already questioned him, she said, but he was entirely unaware of Mabel"s destination.
The man Dawson had now usurped Ford"s position in the household, and the latter, full of resentment, was on the constant watch and as full of suspicion as we all were.
Reggie rejoined me presently, saying, "That fellow is absolutely a bounder of the very first water. Actually invited me to have a whisky-and-soda--in Blair"s house, too! He"s treating Mabel"s flight as a huge joke, saying that she"ll be back quickly enough, and adding that she can"t afford to be away long, and that he"ll bring her back the very instant he desires her presence here. In fact, the fellow talks just as though she were as wax in his hands, and as if he can do anything he pleases with her."
"He can ruin her financially, that"s certain," I remarked, sighing.
"But read this, old chap," and I gave him her strangely-worded letter.
"Good Heavens!" he gasped, when he glanced at it, "she"s in deadly terror of those people, that"s very certain. It"s to avoid them and you that she"s escaped--to Liverpool and America, perhaps. Remember she"s been a great traveller all her youth and therefore knows her way about."
"We must find her, Reggie," I declared decisively.
"But the worst of it is that she"s bent on avoiding you," he said. "She has some distinct reason for this, it seems."
"A reason known only to herself," I remarked pensively. "It is surely a _contretemps_ that now, just at the moment when we have gained the truth of the Cardinal"s secret which brought Blair his fortune, Mabel should voluntarily disappear in this manner. Recollect all we have at stake.
We know not who are our friends or who our enemies. We ought both to go out to Italy and discover the spot indicated in that cipher record, or others will probably forestall us, and we may then be too late."
He agreed that the record being bequeathed to me, I ought to take immediate steps to establish my claim to it, whatever might be. We could not disguise from ourselves the fact that Dawson, as Blair"s partner and partic.i.p.ator of his enormous wealth, must be well aware of the secret, and that he had already, most probably, taken steps to conceal the truth from myself, the rightful owner. He was a power to be reckoned with--a sinister person, possessed of the wiliest cunning and the most devilish ingenuity in the art of subterfuge. Report everywhere gave him that character. He possessed the cold, calm manner of the man who had lived by his wits, and it seemed that in this affair his ingenuity, sharpened by a life of adventure, was to be pitted against my own.
Mabel"s sudden resolution and disappearance were maddening. The mystery of her letter, too, was inscrutable. If she were really dreading lest some undesirable fact might be exposed, then she ought to have trusted me sufficiently to take me entirely into her confidence. I loved her, although I had never declared my pa.s.sion, therefore, ignorant of the truth, she had treated me as I had desired, as a sincere friend. Yet, why had she not sought my aid? Women are such strange creatures, I reflected. Perhaps she loved that fellow after all!
A fevered, anxious week went by and Mabel made no sign. One night I left Reggie at the Devonshire about half-past eleven and walked the damp, foggy London streets until the roar of traffic died away, the cabs crawled and grew infrequent and the damp, muddy pavements were given over to the tramping constable and the shivering outcast. In the thick mist I wandered onward thinking deeply, yet more and more mystified at the remarkable chain of circ.u.mstances which seemed hour by hour to become more entangled.
On and on I had wandered, heedless of where my footsteps carried me, pa.s.sing along Knightsbridge, skirting the Park and Kensington Gardens, and was just pa.s.sing the corner of the Earl"s Court Road when some fortunate circ.u.mstance awakened me from my deep reverie, and I became conscious for the first time that I was being followed. Yes, there distinctly was a footstep behind me, hurrying when I hurried, slackening when I slackened. I crossed the road, and, before the long high wall of Holland Park I halted and turned. My pursuer came on a few paces, but drew up suddenly, and I could only distinguish against the glimmer of the street lamp through the London fog a figure long and distorted by the bewildering mist. The latter was not sufficiently dense to prevent me finding my way, for I knew that part of London well. Nevertheless, to be followed so persistently at such an hour was not very pleasant. I was suspicious that some tramp or thief who had pa.s.sed me by and found me oblivious to my surroundings had turned and followed me with evil intent.
Forward I went again, but as soon as I had done so the light, even tread, almost an echo of my own, came on steadily behind me. I had heard weird stories of madmen who haunt the London streets at night and who follow unsuspecting foot-pa.s.sengers aimlessly. It is one of the forms of insanity well known to specialists.
Again I recrossed the road, pa.s.sing through Edwarde"s Square and out into Earl"s Court Road, thus retracing my steps back towards the High Street, but the mysterious man still followed me so persistently that in the mist, which in that part had grown thicker until it obscured the street lamps, I confess I experienced some uneasiness.
Presently, however, just as I was turning the corner into Lexham Gardens at a point where the fog had obscured everything, I felt a sudden rush, and at the same instant experienced a sharp stinging sensation behind the right shoulder. The shock was such a severe one that I cried out, turning next instant upon my a.s.sailant, but so agile was he that, ere I could face him, he had eluded me and escaped.
I heard his receding footsteps--for he was running away down the Earl"s Court Road--and shouted for the police. But there was no response. The pain in my shoulder became excruciating. The unknown man had struck me with a knife, and blood was flowing, for I felt it damp and sticky upon my hand.
Again I shouted "Police! Police!" until at last I heard an answering voice in the mist and walked in its direction. After several further shouts I discovered the constable and to him related my strange experience.
He held his bull"s eye close to my back and said--
"Yes, there"s no doubt, sir, you"ve been stabbed! What kind of a man was he?"
"I never saw him," was my lame reply. "He always kept at a distance from me and only approached at a point where it was too dark to distinguish his features."
"I"ve seen no one, except a clergyman whom I met a moment ago pa.s.sing in Earl"s Court Road--at least he wore a broad-brimmed hat like a clergyman. I didn"t see his face."
"A clergyman!" I gasped. "Do you think it could have been a Roman Catholic priest?" for my thoughts were at that moment of Fra Antonio, who was evidently the guardian of the Cardinal"s secret.
"Ah! I"m sure I couldn"t tell. I couldn"t see his features. I only noted his hat."
"I feel very faint," I said, as a sickening dizziness crept over me. "I wish you"d get me a cab. I think I had better go straight home to Great Russell Street."
"That"s a long way. Hadn"t you better go round to the West London Hospital first?" the policeman suggested.
"No," I decided. "I"ll go home and call my own doctor."
Then I sat upon a doorstep at the end of Lexham Gardens and waited while the constable went in search of a hansom in the Old Brompton Road.
Had I been attacked by some homicidal maniac who had followed me all that distance, or had I narrowly escaped being the victim of foul a.s.sa.s.sination? To me the latter theory seemed decidedly the most feasible. There was a strong motive for my death. Blair had bequeathed the great secret to me and I had now learnt the cipher of the cards.
This fact had probably become known to our enemies, and hence their dastardly attempt.
Such a contingency, however, was a startling one, for if it had become known that I had really deciphered the record, then our enemies would most certainly take steps in Italy to prevent us discovering the secret of that spot on the banks of the wild and winding Serchio.
At last the cab came, and, slipping a tip into the constable"s palm, I got in, and with my silk m.u.f.fler placed at my back to staunch the blood, drove slowly on through the fog at little more than foot"s-pace.
Almost as soon as I entered the hansom I felt my head swimming and a strange sensation of numbness creeping up my legs. A curious nausea seized me, too, and although I had fortunately been able to stop the flow of blood, which tended to prove that the wound was not such a serious one after all, my hands felt strangely cramped, and in my jaws was a curious pain very much like the commencement of an attack of neuralgia.
I felt terribly ill. The cabman, informed by the constable of my injury, opened the trap-door in the roof to inquire after me, but I could scarcely articulate a reply. If the wound was only a superficial one it certainly had a strange effect upon me.
Of the many misty lights at Hyde Park Corner I have a distinct recollection, but after that my senses seemed bewildered by the fog and the pain I suffered and I recollect nothing more until, when I opened my eyes painfully again, I found myself in my own bed, the daylight shining in at the window and Reggie and our old friend Tom Walker, surgeon, of Queen Anne Street, standing beside me watching me with a serious gravity that struck me at the moment as rather humorous.
Nevertheless, I must admit that there was very little humour in the situation.